Chapter 66

Silver’s eyes fluttered open, his head pounding. The air was thick and heavy, carrying a stench of rot that made his stomach twist. As his vision steadied, he realized he was lying in a chamber full of bones – human bones – piled like discarded rubble.

“Gross,” he muttered, grimacing as he brushed a skull away from his shoulder. The cold stone beneath him sent a shiver up his spine as he forced himself upright. His eyes caught on a rusted gate hanging slightly ajar, a faint orange light flickering beyond it.

“Scott?” Silver called, his voice rasping. The echo of his own words bounced down the hallway, swallowed by the dark.

He pushed the gate open. It groaned in protest, the sound scraping through his nerves. The corridor stretched ahead, narrow and suffocating. Every step Silver took echoed against the walls, which were streaked with blood and carved with symbols he didn’t understand. Somewhere deeper in the shadows, something growled – low and hungry.

Silver froze. He glanced behind him – nothing. He swallowed and kept moving, faster now, his heart drumming in his ears.

At the far end of the hallway, a Berserker stood perfectly still, its massive frame blocking the path. Silver’s stomach dropped. “Oh, come on,” he muttered, turning to retreat – only to find another one behind him.

Before he could react, the creature grabbed him, slamming him into the wall with inhuman strength. The breath was knocked out of him. He struggled, gasping, until his eyes caught something – two black armbands strapped around the Berserker’s forearms.

Silver froze. “Scott?” he whispered. His good eye widened as he stared through the skull mask – because behind the bone, glowing faintly red, were Scott’s eyes.

But Scott didn’t stop. He lifted Silver off the ground like he weighed nothing and hurled him down. Pain exploded through Silver’s body as he hit the stone floor, a choked cry escaping his lips.

A low, amused growl echoed through the chamber. “I’m going to have to do a better job of covering that up,” Kate said smoothly.

Silver’s head snapped up as she stepped out of the shadows – calm, composed, and smiling like the devil. Her claws caught the torchlight, gleaming with wicked precision.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Silver snarled, forcing himself to his knees.

Kate circled him like a predator. “That’s the better story.” Her voice was soft, almost teasing. “When I escaped the Calaveras, I didn’t know where to go. But something… called me home. To the Temple of Tezcatlipoca.”

Silver glared, chest heaving. “I know what that is.”

Kate smiled wider. “Of course you do. ‘The Smoking Mirror.’ A god of reflection. Power. When I got here, the Berserkers were waiting. They helped me survive. But I didn’t realize why – until I learned what I could do. Control them. Shape them. Create them.” She stopped near Scott, resting a clawed hand on his bone-plated arm. “They call me La Loba. The Bone Woman.”

Silver’s blood turned to ice. “You turned him into one of them,” he breathed.

Kate’s grin sharpened. “We let you out for a reason, Silver. I needed to test his loyalty. If Scott can hurt the person he loves most, then I know he’s truly mine.”

Silver’s breath caught. “You’re insane.”

Kate crouched in front of him, her eyes glinting. “You got to watch him become an Alpha without killing anyone. How noble. How pure.” Her tone dropped to a venomous whisper. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Before Silver could move, Scott grabbed him – one clawed hand pressing his shoulder down hard against the floor. “Scott, no – no, it’s me,” Silver gasped, struggling beneath him. He could see it, the faint tremor in Scott’s arm, the hesitation behind the mask – but it wasn’t enough.

Kate unsheathed a knife, the obsidian edge catching the dim light. “I wonder,” she said softly, dragging the blade along Silver’s trembling hand, “what else I can make him do.”

“Stop!” Silver shouted, thrashing, but Scott’s grip tightened. He could hear Scott’s heartbeat – it was fast, erratic – but his body wouldn’t release him.

Kate leaned in, smiling coldly. “Let’s leave a mark to remember me by.”

With a cruel, deliberate motion, she pressed the blade into Silver’s palm and began to carve – spiraling lines, a jagged circle, the symbol of the evil eye. Silver screamed, his body arching as the knife bit deeper, blood running down his wrist.

Kate watched with sick fascination as the pattern took shape, then held up his trembling hand. “The eye that sees everything,” she whispered. “Even when it shouldn’t.”

Silver collapsed back, gasping for breath, clutching his bleeding hand. Tears burned down his cheek as he stared at Scott, who stood over him – still trapped inside the Berserker’s armor, still shaking with silent conflict.

Kate rose, wiping the blood from her blade. “I almost feel bad,” she said, turning away. “Almost.”

Silver’s body trembled, his voice breaking. “You’re never going to win.”

Kate’s smile deepened. “Sweetheart,” she said, her tone like poison, “I already have.”

💰

When Silver woke again, the air felt colder. Damp stone pressed against his back, his head pounding with a dull ache. His body screamed in protest when he tried to move – every muscle burning, every breath sharp.

The first thing he noticed was the ache in his hand. His left palm was wrapped in a crude strip of cloth, soaked through with blood. Beneath it, he could feel the carved ridges of Kate’s symbol, the sting pulsing with every heartbeat.

He sat up slowly, vision blurry, his surroundings coming into focus: a chamber, half-lit by flickering torches wedged between cracks in the wall. Bones were stacked neatly in the corners, as if someone had been collecting them. The floor was uneven stone, smeared with soot and blood.

And across the room, leaning casually against a cracked pillar, was Michael.

Silver’s breath caught. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Michael smiled – not the warm one Silver used to know, but sharp, amused, cruel. “Miss me?”

Silver’s pulse spiked. “Where’s Scott?”

“Still breathing,” Michael said, glancing at his fingernails as though the answer bored him. “For now. Can’t say the same for you, though. You don’t look so good.”

Silver ignored him, trying to stand. Pain flared through his ribs and shoulder, and he stumbled, catching himself against the wall.

“Careful,” Michael said with mock concern, straightening. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin the pretty little mark Kate gave you.”

Silver glanced down at his hand, the bandage trembling as he held it up. “What did she do to me?”

Michael stepped closer, his boots echoing against the stone. “She called it an ‘eye.’ Said it suits you – you’ve always liked looking where you shouldn’t.” His smirk widened. “Guess now the world can look right back.”

Silver’s jaw clenched. “You’re working with her?”

Michael’s laughter was quiet, bitter. “Working with her? No. I don’t work for anyone anymore. Not Kate, not your grandfather, not my precious family. But sometimes our interests align.”

He started circling Silver, eyes cold and studying. “You know, you and I – we used to want the same thing. To stop running, to stop being afraid, to stop losing people. But somehow, everyone dies around you, don’t they?”

Silver froze, the words hitting harder than any punch.

Michael’s tone softened, just slightly. “Allison died saving you. You remember that, right?”

Silver swallowed hard. “Don’t.”

“She pushed you out of the way, took the hit meant for you. You were the reason she died, and you couldn’t even look at her when she fell. You just… screamed her name like that would bring her back.”

“Stop,” Silver said quietly, but his voice shook.

Silver’s breath hitched, his back pressed against the cold wall. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Michael leaned in, close enough that Silver could see the scar that ran across his jaw – the one Silver had stitched years ago. “Oh, I do. You were the consolation prize. The blind kid with the tragic past. You think Scott loves you because of who you are? No, Silver. He loves you because he has to. You’re his guilt.”

Silver shoved him back with what little strength he had. “You don’t know anything about him – or me.”

Michael staggered, but his smirk never faded. “Then tell me why you keep surviving when better people don’t. Your mom dies, your sister dies, your friends bleed for you – and yet you’re still standing here.”

Silver’s hands trembled. “Because I’m supposed to be here. Because they wanted me to live.”

Michael tilted his head. “Or maybe you just don’t know how to die.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and cruel. Silver’s breath came uneven, his chest tight. The symbol on his hand burned like fire.

Michael stepped back, his voice lower now. “You want to know the truth? You and I aren’t so different. We both lost everything. The only difference is…” He paused, eyes narrowing. “…I stopped pretending I was still the good guy.”

Silver swallowed hard, anger and guilt twisting together in his chest. “Funny,” he whispered, “coming from the guy who ran when things got hard.”

That was all it took.

Michael swung.

The first punch split Silver’s lip. The second made him drop to his knees. The hits came fast, vicious – Michael’s knuckles cracking against bone, each strike fueled by rage years in the making. Silver tried to block, tried to swing back, but his strength was gone. His hand burned like it was on fire, his vision swimming.

“Stop – “

But Michael didn’t. He grabbed Silver by the hair, yanking his head up so their eyes met.

“You think Scott’s going to save you?” he hissed. “Why can’t you fight for yourself? Stop being the boy who cried wolf.”

Silver spit blood, glaring through the pain. “You sound jealous.”

Michael froze, and something in his eyes – something deep, raw, broken – flickered. Then he slammed Silver to the ground again, the impact rattling through his ribs.

He kicked him once, hard in the ribs, enough to make Silver choke out a strangled breath.

“You think you’re the victim,” Michael said, crouching beside him. His voice was quieter now, almost calm. “You’re not. You’re the reason everyone else ends up dead. You pull people in, make them care, and then you destroy them.”

Silver’s voice came out cracked, barely a whisper. “You’re wrong.”

Michael leaned close, close enough that Silver could feel his breath. “Am I?”

For a long, awful moment, there was silence – just the sound of dripping water, the echo of Silver’s shallow breathing, the low flicker of the torches.

Then Michael straightened. He looked down at Silver – bloody, half-conscious, barely moving – and sighed, almost disappointed.

“I should kill you,” he said simply. “Right here. Right now.”

Silver didn’t answer. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, the edges of his world blurring.

Michael’s tone softened, like he was letting him in on a secret. “But I’m not going to.”

Silver blinked weakly, trying to focus on his face.

“I’m going to let you live,” Michael said, voice steady now, emotionless. “You’re not dying today.”

He turned toward the tunnel entrance, his silhouette outlined by the faint orange light.

“But Scott,” Michael added quietly, almost like a whisper meant for himself – “Scott is going to take your place today.”

Silver’s stomach dropped. He tried to push himself up, but his body wouldn’t move. “Michael – “

Michael glanced back over his shoulder, that cold, familiar smirk curling again. “You always said you’d die for him. Guess we’ll see if he’ll do the same for you.”

Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Silver on the cold stone floor – trembling, and bleeding.

💰

“Go back! Get back! Go! Go, go, go, go!” Peter yelled as he pushedeveryone back. “Go find Silver and Scott! Go!” Malia yelled and Kira, Ren and Stiles glanced at each other before nodding and running off down one of the halls.

“Scott! Silver!” Stiles called out, his voice cracking slightly as they turned another corner.

Ren glanced around, frustrated. “Where can this dude go? He’s got one eye!”

From up ahead came a weak, raspy voice: “At least I don’t use my hands to still figure out left and right!”

Ren froze – then looked down sheepishly as Kira bit her lip to keep from laughing. Even Stiles cracked a grin.

“Classic Silver,” Ren muttered.

But the humor vanished as Silver stumbled into view, blood drying on his temple, his shirt torn and crusted dark. His left hand – the one marked with Kate’s twisted “evil eye” carving – shook violently.

“Silver!” Stiles rushed forward, catching him just as his knees buckled. “What the hell happened to you?”

Ren’s expression darkened as he crouched beside them. “Was this Michael?”

Kira knelt down too, her voice soft and trembling. “Are you okay?”

Silver blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious. “I’m fine,” he lied, breath ragged. “But it’s Scott.”

That made them all freeze.

“What?” Stiles asked.

Silver’s voice cracked as he looked at them, panic bleeding through. “The Berserker the others are fighting – it’s him. It’s Scott. Kate did it.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles said, glancing at Ren like maybe this was another delirious ramble.

Silver’s frustration broke through the exhaustion. “She made him one of them! She turned him into a Berserker. And they don’t know it – they could kill him!”

The color drained from Stiles’ face. Slowly, realization set in. “That’s why Lydia’s not here… She’s trying to stop it.”

“Yeah,” Silver said, pushing away from Stiles’ grip and forcing himself upright, even as he winced in pain. “They won’t know they’re killing Scott.”

Ren grabbed Silver’s arm to steady him. “Then let’s move.”

The four of them sprinted back down the corridor, Silver half-limping but refusing to stop.

When they got back to where everyone else was they saw Peter and Liam holding the berserker back while Malia looked like she was about to stab it with a bone. “Malia, wait! It’s Scott!” Stiles yelled but she wasn’t paying attention. Kira ran forward, slicing the bone in half making Malia drop it and turn to her.

“It’s Scott. It’s Scott.” Silver said, making them all look back at the berserker. The berserker-Scott- shoved Peter and Liam back before punching Malia making her fall back before walking towards Liam who crawled back. “Scott? Scott! It’s me!” Stiles said but the berserker just looked at him before punching him.

The berserker turned back to Liam before grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall. “Scott! Scott, listen! Listen!” Liam yelled right as the berserker went to stab him, “Listen! You’re not a monster!” Liam said, making him freeze.

“You’re a Werewolf… like me.” Liam said and the berserker slowly lowered its arm before letting Liam go and slowly backing up. It looked down at its hands for a moment before pulling all off the bones and skin off. It gripped the skill before slowly breaking it in half to reveal Scott who let out a loud roar.

It was quiet for a moment as Scott stared at Peter, “You.” He said, making everyone look over at Peter. “The only one who knew as much as Argent about the Berserkers… about the Nagual. You taught Kate. You helped her. All for power.” Scott said.

“For my family’s power… to be rightfully inherited by me. Not usurped by some idiot teenage boy so incorruptible, he won’t shed the blood of his enemies even when justified. You don’t deserve your power. Not power like this.” Peter said.

He transformed and let out a roar making Malia flash her eyes and canines before charging at him but he just swiped at her making her go flying back into a broken wall with a groan. “Oh, sorry, sweetheart. We’ll talk about this later.” Peter said.

Kira spun her sword around and was about to run at Peter but Scott stopped her. “You were my Beta first, Scott. It was my bite that changed your life… and my bite that can end it.” Peter said as he and Scott stared at each other.

“Then end it, Peter! Because you won’t get another chance.” Scott said and the both let out a roar before charging at each other. Scott swiped at Peter a couple times until Peter managed to grab Scott’s arm and punch him in the stomach.

Scott swiped at Peter then crouched down and swiped again but then Peter punched in the face making Scott stumbled back again. But instead of going down, Scott did a couple back flips and stood up making Peter roar at him before charging.

Peter threw a few punches but Scott easily dodged them. “Come on, Scott Come on!” Peter taunted before Scott went to throw a punch but Peter grabbed his arm and punched Scott in the stomach before grabbing him and throwing him into a pillar. He grabbed him again before throwing him into the opposite pillar.

“Fight like an Alpha, Scott!” Peter said, shoving Scott into the wall. Scott growled slightly before pushing away from the wall and kicking off the opposite, giving him enough leverage to throw Peter to the ground. Scott jumped up and punched Peter who was on the ground a couple times before grabbing him by the shirt, pulling him up.

Peter managed to headbutt Scott before Scott punched him in the side and then the face. Peter got the upper hand again before punching Scott making him stumble back then kicked one of Scott’s legs from under him. “You want to defeat me? You’re going to have to kill me!” Peter growled before throwing Scott across the room.

Liam went to step forward but Peter grabbed a wooden bench before throwing it at Liam. Liam quickly ducked down right as the bench hit the wall behind him and shattered over his head making Peter smirk and let out a growl. Seeing this, triggered the protective Alpha side of Scott making him growl and stand up.

Peter charged at Scott again but no matter what Peter did, Scott blocked it before punching Peter in the side making him stumble back. While Peter was vulnerable Scott uppercutted Peter making him go flying back into a wall.

“You were never an Alpha, Peter… But you were always a monster.” Scott said, making Peter snarl and go to charge at him again but before he could Scott jumped up and punched him, knocking him out.

💰

Michael stood, blood running down his temple. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.

“I’m not going down for this,” he muttered, his tone sharp, shaking with rage.

From the shadows, a soft chuckle drifted out – cold and cruel. Kate stepped into the dim light, her eyes glowing faintly gold, her smirk sharp as a blade.

“What do you think is going to happen to you?” she asked. “You think you’ll walk away clean? You’ve never been clean, Michael. You were born dirty – the moment you sided with them.”

Michael’s jaw tightened, but before he could answer, the echo of boots filled the temple – heavy, deliberate, familiar.

Chris Argent stepped out from the darkness, his rifle raised, the light catching the hard line of his jaw. His expression was unreadable – calm, but the fury beneath it burned steady.

Kate turned toward him, mock delight spreading across her face.

“You want to kill me, Chris?”

Argent didn’t flinch.

“No,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want to save you anymore, either. I don’t know that you’re worth saving.”

Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes, her claws curling idly at her sides.

“Just like when we were kids,” she said with a smirk. “Always trying to make me the bad guy.”

She began to pace slowly between the two men, her voice dripping with poison.

“You can’t see things clearly anymore, can you? Arthur has ruined you.” She paused, her smirk deepening. “He made you soft. You used to be a hunter, Chris. You used to understand what had to be done.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to talk about my son.”

Kate laughed – that cruel, wild laugh that used to make his blood run cold.

“Oh, I’ll talk about him all I want,” she hissed. “Do you even know who he is anymore? What he’s become? He’s half of everything you spent your life hunting – and you still protect him.”

Argent took a step forward, the rifle steady in his hands.

“He’s not what you think he is. He’s better than you could ever understand.”

Kate tilted her head, mock sympathy spreading across her face.

“You really believe that, don’t you? You think that boy’s some miracle – some redemption story.” Her smile turned vicious. “But you couldn’t protect Allison, and you won’t protect him either. You didn’t even protect her from him.”

The words hit like a gunshot.

Chris’s breath caught, his voice tightening. “Allison died saving her brother. She made her choice.”

Kate took another step closer, her tone dripping with venom.

“You keep telling yourself that,” she said. “But we both know the truth – if Silver hadn’t been there, she’d still be alive.”

From behind the altar, Michael looked between them, silent but smirking, watching the fire build in Chris’s eyes.

“You could never protect either of them,” Kate continued, circling Chris like a vulture. “You couldn’t protect your daughter, and now you’re too blind to see what your son really is.”

Chris’s hands tightened on the rifle. His voice came out low, trembling with barely-contained fury.

“You don’t say his name again.”

Kate only smiled wider, stepping so close she could whisper the next words.

“You can’t run from the truth forever, Chris. You raised a monster. You just chose to love this one.”

Chris’s jaw flexed, but his eyes were wet, glinting faintly under the weak light.

“He’s my son,” he said, voice breaking but fierce. “And I’d die for him before I ever let you touch him again.”

For the first time, Kate faltered. Her smirk wavered, just slightly – before she forced it back.

“You’re not gonna kill me,” she said softly, backing toward the archway. “And you’re not gonna catch me. Not you… not Peter…”

She took one final step into the shadows, her grin flashing like a knife.

“…and not the Calaveras.”

Her laughter echoed off the stone as she vanished into the tunnels.

Michael took the chance to move, edging toward the opposite corridor. But Chris turned on him in one smooth motion, swinging the rifle butt hard into Michael’s skull.

Michael crumpled instantly, blood smearing the floor beneath him.

For a long moment, Chris just stood there, chest rising and falling, the echoes of Kate’s words still slicing through him.

💰

Silver stood beside Scott just outside the crumbling church, the early morning light filtering through the trees. Dust and ash still clung to their clothes, the aftermath of everything that had happened hanging thick in the air. Scott’s arm rested loosely around Silver’s shoulders, both of them tired – bruised but breathing.

Chris Argent stood a few feet away, rifle slung over his shoulder, speaking in that calm, measured voice that never quite hid the weight behind it.

“There’s enough yellow wolfsbane to keep Peter out for the trip back,” Argent said, checking the clip on his weapon before looking up at the boys. “But be careful.”

Silver nodded, exhaling. “What’s going to happen to Michael?” he asked quietly.

Argent hesitated, his expression tightening before he answered.

“He needs help,” he said. “I’ll let Rachel know her son will be at Eichen House… getting the help he needs.”

Silver shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the ruins behind them. “You’re really going with them?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Argent gave a small nod. “I made a deal with the Calaveras weeks ago,” he admitted. “They’ll leave you alone – all of you. But only if I help them catch Kate.”

Scott frowned. “And if you can’t?”

Argent’s jaw tightened as he looked out toward the horizon. “Then I’ll find her,” he said simply. “Someone has to.”

For a long moment, none of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy – not awkward, but full of everything they didn’t know how to say.

Then Argent turned to Silver, his voice softer now. “You were right,” he said. “I was waiting for permission to be a father again. After losing your sister, I didn’t know what to do. I was… feeling sorry for myself. And that meant I was letting Rachel down with Michael – and I was letting you carry more than you ever should’ve had to.”

Silver’s throat tightened. He didn’t hesitate; he stepped forward and threw his arms around his dad.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his voice breaking just enough to show how long he’d wanted to say it.

Argent hugged him back, his voice low but sure. “I love you too.”

He pulled back just slightly, one hand resting on Silver’s shoulder. “Do me a favor,” he said handing Silver the envelope. “When you get back… read the letter Rachel left. I’ve already read it, but there’s something in it for you.”

Silver nodded, eyes glassy, trying to smile even as his chest ached.

Scott glanced between them, his hand still on Silver’s back, and for the first time in a long while, there was something close to peace in the air – fragile, but real.

💰

Silver walked through the front gate, the envelope clutched tightly in his hands. The sunlight hit the yard, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel threatening. As he pushed open the front door, her words began to play in his mind, almost like a voice he could hear in the quiet.

“Chris, I knew marrying Thomas meant falling in line and living by the code. I knew our family would have to follow the rules and only grow up to hunt innocents. After Thomas died, I saw a glimpse of a future I knew I wanted for my little boy. I wanted him safe, and I wanted him to know that he had a warm bed and a hot plate ready for him to come home to. But we don’t always get what we want.”

Silver stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He ran his hand along the wall as he moved, imagining Rachel’s presence here – imagining her hope that this place would become a safe space for him and his father.

“I’m taking Isaac to France to meet my cousin. She knows of our situation and has offered to help find us a home. Michael’s gone. He left in the middle of the night asking me not to look for him. Of course, I’ll always look for him. I left him a note letting him know where I am, and I left a similar one for you. If you find him, or if he tries to find some sort of home – please give it to him. Even if he tears it up and I never hear from him.“

Silver moved through the house, opening doors, peeking into rooms. He ran his fingers over counters, glanced into empty cupboards, even touched the windowsills. Her words echoed as if guiding him, shaping the house into more than just a building – a home.

“I’ve also included some paperwork for a house near the Sheriff’s house. I used some money left from Thomas to buy it for me and my boys to start our future, but please use it for you and your son. I know how great of a father you are, Chris. I’ve seen how Silver admires you and how you would protect your son. You have both lost so much, and you deserve some peace.”

He knelt on the floor, pulling open drawers and inspecting closets. The emptiness of the house was no longer intimidating – it was inviting. He imagined filling it with small touches, furniture, warmth, life.

Scott followed behind him, silently observing, occasionally brushing a hand against Silver’s shoulder or ruffling his hair in that familiar way that always made Silver’s chest tighten.

“You’re safe here,” the letter seemed to say as he explored. “You’re going to have a place to belong.”

Silver paused in the living room, letting out a small laugh as he twirled the envelope in his hands. He set it down on the counter, then moved to the window and looked outside. For a moment, he let himself breathe.

💰

Later that night, the house was quiet. Silver and Scott lay side by side on the bare mattress, the room shadowed and still. The scar on Silver’s left eye throbbed faintly, a dull heat that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. He tried to ignore it, burying himself against Scott, but another twinge made him shift slightly, wincing.

Then his gaze fell to his hand.

The mark was faint at first, almost invisible under the dim candlelight, but as he lifted his hand closer, he saw it clearly – the same jagged, pale pattern etched into his skin, the remnant of whatever magic or curse Kate had left behind. It almost looked like the outline of an eye, cruel and deliberate, burning faintly where the knife had carved it. He traced it with a trembling finger, and a shiver ran up his arm as the skin pulsed beneath his touch.

Scott stirred, noticing the movement. “What is it?” he asked softly, his voice groggy but laced with concern.

Silver swallowed hard, holding his hand out to Scott. “It’s a new scar. On my hand.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, heavy with unease. “Kate left it. Michael said she called it the eye but if she could create Berskers-“

Scott’s eyes darkened as he took Silver’s hand gently in his own. “Hey, don’t think like that.” he said quietly. “Whatever she put on you, whatever mark she left, we’ll figure it out.”

Silver clenched his hand slightly, watching the burning line. “It’s like it’s alive… like it’s warning me or mocking me. I can feel it pulsing.”

Scott tightened his grip. He watched as the scar glowed a bright red, then faded into an impression.

“I don’t want to be something Scott.” Silver whispered. “I like me.”

The scar was a lingering pain, a reminder of what he’d survived and what was still coming, but for the first time in hours, he felt a thread of safety in the quiet presence of Scott beside him.

He traced the jagged line again, then let his hand rest against his chest, curling into Scott as the room fell into uneasy silence. The eye on his face and the mark on his hand burned faintly – a lingering threat – but for now, at least, he was not alone.

This is the symbol on Silver’s hand imagine it in the middle of his palm. And the gif is to show how it glows and looks to Silver and everyone else.