The silence that followed was not the cautious stillness of strangers—it was something heavier. The man's face had paled, his rifle now hanging loosely at his side. The woman beside him looked between Ethan and the man, her expression shifting from suspicion to something like disbelief.
Ethan stood his ground, heart pounding but posture steady. His hands were still raised, but there was no mistaking the shift in power. He wasn't a stranger to them. He was a ghost—a thread tied to a past they thought buried.
The man stepped forward slowly. "Ethan... David and Mira's boy?"
Ethan nodded. "You knew them?"
The woman lowered her weapon, though her eyes remained sharp. "Knew them? We served with them. David was our team lead for nearly four years."
Joel's voice crackled through Ethan's earpiece—one of the tiny Firefly comms he'd salvaged back at the crypt. "They making a move?"
"No," Ethan murmured, eyes never leaving the pair. "They know my name."
He risked a glance behind him. Ellie and Joel remained hidden beyond the tree line, just out of sight. He turned back.
"Then you can tell me what happened to them," he said. "Why they vanished. Why they left me."
The man's expression softened—just a little. "It's not that simple."
"Try me."
He gestured toward the station. "Come inside. There's too much snow, too many eyes."
Ethan hesitated. Logic screamed to be cautious. But this—this was the first real lead. He gave a slow nod.
"I have people," he said. "They stay outside."
"Fair," the woman replied.
""The interior of the ranger station was warmer than expected. A crude stove flickered in the corner, radiating a modest heat. Maps lined the walls, most of them hand-marked with paths and watchpoints. A few radio units sat silent on a desk. Old ammo crates had been turned into makeshift furniture, and a half-burned flag of the Fireflies lay folded on one shelf—a memory, not a mission.
Ethan sat across from the man and woman. Their names, he learned, were Captain Hale and Sergeant Nia Carrow. Nightingale, both of them. One former. One still carrying the weight.
"They told me Task Force Nightingale was gone," Ethan said. "That it was disbanded after the collapse in Houston."
"It was," Hale answered. "Officially. The unit fractured. Most went underground or disappeared. But not everyone quit."
"And my parents?"
Carrow leaned forward, elbows on knees. "They were working on something bigger. Something off-books. Classified even from Firefly intel. David believed there was a genetic component to immunity. Something inheritable. He thought you might be the key."
Ethan's chest tightened. The room seemed to tilt.
"So they left me?"
"They were taken," Hale said. "By a splinter group within what used to be Firefly command. We tried to get them out. We failed."
Ethan stared at the flame in the stove, his thoughts spiraling. "You're saying they're still alive?"
"We don't know," Carrow replied. "But we've picked up chatter. A facility west of Jackson. A place called Greyreach. Blacksite-level secrecy. That's where they took the others."
Ethan's grip tightened on the edge of the crate he sat on. "Greyreach."
"It's a ghost site," Hale said. "Rumors say it was started before the fall, continued in secret. Biotech, genetics. Some believe it's where the Cordyceps vaccine research never stopped."
Joel's voice hissed again in Ethan's ear. "Ethan, you good?"
"I'm fine. They're not enemies." He turned to the pair. "Greyreach. What is it to you?"
"A mission," Carrow said. "A last one. We lost good people chasing the trail. And we were heading to Jackson to warn Tommy and the others. We knew him from the early days—before the collapse, he coordinated with some of our operatives when the Fireflies were still active in the region. He's one of the last people with a stronghold and a conscience. If anyone can help us make sense of what's left, it's Tommy. But we had to get there before the Wardens did."
Ethan blinked. "Wait—Tommy? You know Tommy?"
Carrow gave a half-smile. "Not personally. But Nightingale and the early Fireflies worked in tandem for a while. He was a contact, a key one. Trusted."
Ethan exchanged a glance with Joel, who remained stoic, but Ethan could read the faint tension in his jaw.
"Small world," Ethan muttered.
"Wardens?"
Hale nodded grimly. "Ex-FEDRA. Mercenary-led. Smart, cruel, and coordinated. They're hunting immunes. Not to cure. To control."
Ethan was still processing what they'd said earlier.
"You said you were going to Jackson. And you know Tommy?" he asked again, more directly this time.
Carrow nodded. "Yes. Like I said, we didn't know him personally. But David did. And Jason, your grandfather—he was part of that network too. Tommy helped us once, years ago, when a Firefly relay station was compromised near Salt Lake. He didn't ask questions. Just acted. That's rare."
Ethan looked to Joel, who was now staring hard at the floor, unmoving.
"You didn't think anyone from your past remembered, huh?" Ethan asked him quietly.
Joel didn't respond.
Ellie.
A weight pressed down on Ethan's shoulders like a mountain. He remembered what it felt like to hold Ellie's wrist that night in the crypt when thunder shook the air. She was more than a companion now. She was one of the only people who truly understood. And if Greyreach had anything to do with people like them—immune, expendable, exploited—then he had to get there.
"You need to show me how to get there," he said, voice low.
"It's not that easy," Hale repeated. "They burned the maps we had. What remains is in our heads. We can guide you. But only if you trust us."
Ethan exhaled slowly. "You need us as much as we need you."
He stood. "I'll bring in my team."
Joel was still frowning as he entered the station, Ellie right behind him, her switchblade twirling restlessly in one hand. She scanned the room, eyes landing on the Firefly flag, then on the two soldiers.
"You trust them?" Joel asked Ethan, his voice low, wary.
"No," Ethan said. "But I believe them."
Carrow's eyes lingered on Ellie. "You're immune too?" she asked, a flicker of realization dawning only after the words left her mouth.
Ellie stiffened. Ethan's heart skipped a beat.
"How do you know?" he said, his voice suddenly sharp.
Carrow blinked. "I— Sorry. I guessed. The way you three talk around things. And… the way she carries herself. I didn't mean to pry."
Joel narrowed his eyes but said nothing.
Ellie exchanged a glance with Ethan, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. I am."
Ellie hesitated, then gave a single, sharp nod.
"Then you're already in this," Carrow said. "Greyreach isn't a place you stumble into. It finds you."
Joel's grip on his rifle remained firm.
"If they touch her," he muttered under his breath, "I burn that place down."
Ethan didn't respond. He didn't have to.
The storm outside was easing, light filtering through the frost-covered windows. Ethan sat again, hands steepled.
"You said my parents believed immunity could be inherited."
"Yes," Hale confirmed. "And not randomly. Engineered. Your father had samples. Your mother had access. They disappeared days after forwarding encrypted logs to Nightingale command. Logs we never cracked."
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment.
"If they were alive, would they still be at Greyreach?"
Carrow frowned. "If the Wardens took over, they wouldn't keep them as guests."
Joel finally broke his silence. "Then we go west. We follow the path. Jackson, then Greyreach. No detours. No delays."
Ellie stood. "We're not doing this alone anymore."
Ethan looked up at them. His team. His family, maybe. And nodded.
"We move at dawn."
That night, Ethan couldn't sleep. He sat near the fire while the others rested, his eyes fixed on the flames. His mind drifted not to the fear of what was coming, but to memory.
He remembered the feel of his grandpa's hands wrapping a bandage around his arm, the way Jason had told him stories about war, survival, and making impossible choices. Ethan had thought it was all just a game once. Then he'd died. Then he woke up in this world.
He didn't ask why he was here.
He asked why he was immune.
And why the people who gave him that legacy were stolen away.
The wind howled outside. But Ethan was already looking west.
And in his bones, Greyreach was calling.