The Dark Blade: Return Of The General.

Chapter 18: Blood Brothers

Jacob moved through the warehouse with deadly purpose, gathering weapons and equipment from hidden caches Leo had prepared. He strapped knives to his thighs, secured a handgun at his lower back, and wrapped his hands in tactical gloves designed for close combat.

Anna grabbed his hand before he could reach for another weapon. Her grip was surprisingly strong, fueled by desperation and fear. "Jacob, stop. This is exactly what he wants. He is trying to make you emotional and reckless."

"I know," Jacob replied calmly, though his jaw was clenched so tight it ached. "But those are your family members. I cannot let them die because of my brother's madness."

"They treated me like garbage for fifteen years," Anna said, tears streaming down her face. "But you are right. They are still family. And if they die because of me, I will never forgive myself." She stepped closer, looking up at him with fierce determination. "So we do this together. No more secrets, no more running. We face this as partners."

Roseline joined them, her own weapons already secured. "I have studied the Tate mansion layout. There are three possible entry points Elijah cannot cover alone. We use them."

They gathered around as Roseline spread out building schematics on a makeshift table. "Jacob goes through the front entrance. Elijah expects that—he wants the dramatic confrontation. While he is focused on Jacob, Anna and I infiltrate through the servant passages on the east and west sides."

"He will have guards," Jacob warned. "My brother is many things, but stupid is not one of them."

"Then we go through the guards," Roseline said simply, as if discussing the weather. "Anna, your Guardian training is awakening. Can you fight?"

Anna looked at her hands, remembering how they had moved against the kidnappers with skills she did not know she possessed. "Yes. I think so. Something inside me knows how to fight, even if my mind does not remember learning."

"Good enough," Roseline decided. She looked at Jacob. "You keep Elijah talking. Make him monologue like all arrogant villains do. Buy us time to get the hostages to safety. Once they are clear, we extract you and bring this whole mansion down on his head."

Jacob nodded, checking his weapons one final time. The plan was simple, which meant a hundred things could go wrong. But simple plans were often the best plans when time was short and options were limited.

"Fifty minutes," Leo announced, checking his phone. "The voting for the first execution is almost closed. We need to move now."

They split up immediately. Roseline and Anna took Leo's car and circled around to approach from different angles. Jacob drove straight to the front gates of the Tate mansion, making no attempt at stealth or subtlety.

The gates stood open, an obvious invitation. Jacob parked his car and stepped out, his boots crunching on gravel as he approached the once-grand estate. The explosion from days earlier had damaged parts of the structure, but the main house still stood proud and imposing.

Bodies littered the front lawn. Servants Jacob recognized from his first visit lay where they had fallen, their blood staining the manicured grass. Three near the entrance matched the ones from Elijah's video—throats cut cleanly, their faces frozen in final expressions of terror.

Jacob stepped over them without breaking stride, his expression cold and empty. He had seen too much death in his military career to let three more bodies slow him down now.

The front door hung open. Jacob entered with his hand near his concealed weapon, every sense alert for ambush. The entrance hall showed signs of struggle—overturned furniture, blood smears on the walls, bullet holes in expensive artwork.

He followed the sounds of crying to the main reception hall. What he found there made his blood boil with rage he struggled to contain.

The Tate family knelt in a neat line, hands bound behind their backs with zip ties. Anna's sister Aria sobbed uncontrollably, mascara running down her face. Her mother Elizabeth tried to maintain dignity despite obvious fear. Marcus, Anna's brother, had been beaten badly—his face was swollen and one eye had closed completely. Other family members Jacob barely knew from the wedding showed various states of terror and injury.

Standing behind them like a dark shadow was Elijah Krigg.

He wore armor that seemed to absorb light, making him appear as a living void in the center of the bright room. The mask covering his face was an exact duplicate of Jacob's Dark Blade mask, but somehow wrong—twisted and corrupted into something nightmarish.

For twenty-two years, these brothers had been separated. Now they stood in the same room, breathing the same air, staring at each other across a distance measured in more than just physical space.

Elijah reached up and slowly removed his mask, revealing the face beneath.

Jacob felt like he was looking into a dark mirror. Every feature matched his own—same nose, same jaw, same cheekbones. But that terrible scar running from temple to jaw twisted Elijah's face into something cruel and alien. And his eyes held a madness that no amount of physical similarity could hide.

"Hello, brother," Elijah said, his voice a dark echo of Jacob's own. "Did you miss me?"

Jacob kept his expression neutral despite the storm of emotions raging inside him. "Why are you doing this, Elijah? These people have nothing to do with what happened to our family."

Elijah laughed—a cold, bitter sound devoid of real humor. "Our family? You mean the family that chose you over me? The perfect son, the good twin, while I was the monster they locked away?"

He walked along the line of hostages, dragging his gloved fingers across their shoulders. Several flinched at his touch. "I was stronger than you, Jacob. Faster, smarter, more ruthless. But they feared me. They looked at me and saw something wrong, something broken. So they erased me and pretended I never existed."

"You tried to kill me," Jacob said quietly. "Multiple times. You set fires, hurt other children, showed no remorse for anything you did. They did not lock you away because you were different. They locked you away because you were dangerous."

Elijah's face twisted with rage. "I was five years old! A child! But instead of helping me, they drugged me and threw me in a cage!" He pulled out a knife, the blade gleaming in the chandelier light. "And where were you, dear brother, while I rotted in that facility? Living the life that should have been mine."

"I did not know you existed," Jacob replied, his voice steady despite his racing heart. "They suppressed my memories to protect me from the trauma you caused."

"Convenient," Elijah sneered. "You get to forget, while I remember everything. Every day in that prison, every therapy session where they tried to fix what was not broken, every night I dreamed about the family who abandoned me."

He stopped behind Aria, pressing the knife to her throat. She whimpered, fresh tears flowing down her face. "So here is what is going to happen, brother. You are going to understand what it feels like to lose everything."

Jacob's hand moved toward his concealed weapon, but Elijah pressed the knife harder against Aria's skin. A thin line of blood appeared where the blade bit into flesh.

"Drop it," Elijah commanded. "Drop all your weapons, or I open her throat right now."

Jacob forced himself to think past his rage. Roseline and Anna needed time to infiltrate and reach the hostages. He needed to keep Elijah talking, keep him distracted. Slowly, Jacob pulled out his gun and set it on the floor. Then his knives, one by one, until he stood unarmed before his brother.

"Good boy," Elijah mocked. "Always so predictable. Always the hero. That is your weakness, Jacob. You care too much about people who do not deserve it."

He released Aria, who collapsed sobbing to the floor. But instead of celebrating his victory, Elijah pulled a small device from his pocket—a remote detonator with a single red button.

"Now comes the really fun part," Elijah said, his scarred face splitting into a psychotic grin. "I have wired this entire mansion with explosives. Enough C4 to bring down a building twice this size." He pressed his thumb against the button without pushing it. "You have a choice to make, dear brother."

Jacob's blood turned to ice. "What choice?"

Elijah pressed the button.

Immediately, electronic beeping filled the mansion from multiple locations. The hostages screamed as they realized what was happening. Through the walls, Jacob could hear dozens of countdown timers all synchronized to the same deadly rhythm.

"Sixty seconds," Elijah announced calmly. "You can try to save these worthless people and drag them out of the building before it explodes. Or you can chase me through that hidden passage behind the bookshelf and try to stop me before I escape."

He backed toward the wall, where a section of bookshelf was already swinging open to reveal a dark tunnel beyond. "Save them or stop me, Jacob. You cannot do both. So what will it be? The hero's sacrifice, or the warrior's vengeance?"

The countdown timers chimed their deadly rhythm. Fifty-five seconds. Fifty-four. Fifty-three.

Elijah stood at the threshold of his escape route, that terrible smile never wavering. "Tick tock, brother. Time to see what you really value."

Then he vanished into darkness, and the bookshelf swung shut behind him with a final, damning click.