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Ella had forgotten how much undercover surveillance felt like waiting for a time bomb to go off. Static crackled through the SUV's speakers as she and Ross huddled in darkness. From their vantage point a block away, Madame Butterfly's was just another shadow among shadows.

Ross’ earpiece dangled around his neck - he'd complained about the feedback ten minutes in.

‘Tools to the ground?’ Ella asked. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

Ross shrugged. His tie had come loose and his collar was undone like it had given up on life. ‘Some kind of cult language maybe? These groups love their special vocabulary.’

‘Yeah, but tools?’ Ella cranked up the volume. The feed crackled with static and muffled breathing. She'd insisted on the best equipment available, but technology had a way of failing just when you needed it most.

Through the laptop's tinny speakers, Ezra Crowley's voice rolled like thunder in an empty church. ‘ Brothers and sisters. The elements wait for no one. Time flows like water, burns like fire, grounds us like earth, lifts us like air. ’

More metaphysical nonsense. Ella repeatedly slapped the steering wheel to a beat that matched her pulse, somewhere around 120 beats per minute. She shouldn't have sent Luca in there alone. Four months as her partner, and she'd already thrown him to the wolves. Some mentor she was turning out to be.

‘We should just take them,’ she said. ‘Full tactical team. Breach and clear.’

Ross' eyes stayed fixed on the screen. ‘On what grounds? Being weird isn't illegal.’

'No, but two of our victims had those symbols carved next to their bodies.' She reached for her phone and then stopped. One call to Edis and she could have a SWAT team here in fifteen minutes. But then what? They'd scatter like roaches, destroy evidence, go deeper underground. And if one of them was their killer, it was a wasted opportunity.

Plus, if tools meant weapons, then rushing in could get messy .

‘ The ancient texts speak of transformation ,’ Ezra's voice continued through the feed. ‘ Not of metal into gold, but of consciousness into higher forms. The elements are not mere building blocks - they are gateways. ’

A siren wailed in the distance. New York's heartbeat, regular as artillery fire. The feed picked up rustling sounds - people shifting in their seats, fabric against fabric.

‘Why didn’t we get visual too?’ Ross asked.

'Too risky.' Ella pulled up the building's floor plan on her phone. Three exits, including the front door. No basement according to the records, though you never knew with places this old. 'The whole thing could go sideways in a heartbeat. All it takes is one nutjob with a weapon.’

‘ Who among you has touched the void between states? Who has felt matter transform beneath their hands? The ancients knew. The texts preserved their wisdom. ’

More rustling. Someone coughed. The feed picked up what might have been pages turning.

‘This guy talks a lot and says nothing,’ Ross muttered.

‘You’re not kidding, but what do you expect from someone who starts their own cult? Narcissistic personality disorder plus a messiah complex.’

‘ The elements speak to those who listen. Earth whispers its secrets. Water reveals hidden truths. Air carries messages on every breeze. Fire cleanses all it touches. ’

A cold finger walked down Ella's spine. The words were too close to their case - bodies transformed by earth and water. But Ezra's tone held no malice, no hint that he knew about Marcus Thornton or Sarah Chen. Just the rambling philosophy of a man who'd read too many medieval texts.

‘Think he did it?’ Ross asked.

‘The more he talks, the more I’m thinking he’s hiding some skeletons. But I don’t know. Our killer’s taking these ideas literally - using actual elements to murder people. Ezra's talking philosophy.’

‘Philosophy that got two people killed.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe someone in that room took his metaphors too far.’

The voice droned on. ‘We are not separate from the elements, brothers. We are them. Earth in our bones. Water in our blood. Fire in our minds. Air in our breath. The Great Work is not about changing reality - it is about remembering what we truly are. ’

The Great Work. Ella made a mental note of whatever the hell that was.

Cultists murmured their agreements. The sound reminded Ella of wind through dead leaves.

Ross checked his watch. ‘How long do these things usually run?’

'Two hours, according to Felix. But we can't pull him out now. Not without starting a bloodbath.'

‘ Brother Nine. ’ Ezra's voice snapped. ‘ You return to us after abandoning the path. Why? ’

Ella's heart skipped. She grabbed Ross by the wrist. ‘Listen. He’s talking to Luca.’

This was it. His time to shine. They'd rehearsed responses, prepared for questions, but nothing could truly prepare you for lying to a room full of true believers.

‘ The void called me back. ’ Luca's voice carried the perfect mix of hesitation and reverence. Even his Jersey accent held firm. ‘ I was... lost without the Order. ’

Silence stretched through the feed. Ella held her breath. One wrong word, one slip in his persona, and this whole operation would implode.

‘ The void always calls its children home. ’ Satisfaction colored Ezra's tone. ‘ But the path requires dedication. Sacrifice. Are you prepared to walk it again? ’

‘ Yes. ’ Simple. Direct. Perfect.

Ross said, ‘Hawkins is keeping it light.’

Ella hushed him. Every word mattered now. Every sentence could be a clue to who among Ezra's followers had turned philosophical ravings into murder.

‘ You sought knowledge in forbidden places. Tell us what you learned. ’

Ella's breath caught. This wasn't part of the script. They hadn't prepared for direct questioning about Felix's attempt to access the restricted archives.

‘You… failed?’

'Yes, I did. I'm sorry, ’ Luca said.

Another beat of silence. Ella held her breath. She found her hand instinctively reaching for the door handle.

‘ But Brother Eight was adamant that those texts were accessible.’

‘Well, they weren’t. Whaddaya want me to say?’

‘Not now, Hawkins,’ Ella shouted at the laptop. ‘Save that sarcasm for when you get out of there. ’

‘Yet you tried. The seeking itself has value. Let us begin. ’ Pages rustled again.

Crisis averted.

Ella let out her breath. Four months of partnership and she still underestimated Luca. He’d never let her down, even when she asked him to do stupid things like this. Maybe she didn’t deserve someone with a heart as golden as his.

Tonight we speak of transmutation. Of passing between states of being. The ancient texts tell us that matter is neither created nor destroyed - merely transformed. ’

Basic physics dressed up in mystical language. Ella recognized the tactic – cult leaders often twisted scientific principles into profound revelations. Made their followers feel special for understanding basic truths.

‘We gather tonight under the watchful eye of Hermes, the great conductor of souls, he who walks between worlds. The elements are in flux, the veil grows thin. Can you feel it?’

Through the speakers, Ezra continued his sermon. She checked her watch. Barely fifteen minutes had passed since Luca entered that room, but it felt like hours. All she could do was listen. And wait. And pray she hadn't just sent her partner into a death trap.