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DOES LOVE WIN IT ALL?
In a post-apocalyptic society ruled by fear and power, there are those with special abilities tasked with upholding justice—elite warriors trained to drive back the darkness.
In New York City, the skyline was cloaked in gray: rain, cold, and the usual chaos of a new week.
Olivia was returning to the station after a brutal fight with the Knights of Darkness. At her side was her partner, Elliot. She was strategy and precision; he was brute force.
Liv rushed to the station’s dormitories, hoping to avoid being seen by her boss.
Her arm burned, the pain burrowing deep. She peeled off her leather jacket—there it was: not a deep wound, but a painful one. She grabbed some rubbing alcohol, biting her lip to stifle a cry. Still, a curse slipped out.
The door creaked open, revealing an older man—her captain, Don Cragen. But he was more than that. He was her father.
It had happened when she was just four years old. In a surprise ambush, Don had rescued
her from the Knights of Darkness.
Protocol said she should’ve been placed in state care.
But something in her eyes—vulnerable, fierce, and full of strength—won him over. He adopted her as his own.
The Knights of Darkness were genetically altered humans, engineered for peak strength and skill.
The cost? A short life in service of a perfect system—one that fed off the lives of innocents to harvest the substance that made them part of the darkness.
“You okay?” Don asked.
“I’m fine,” Liv said, hiding her injured arm.
“You’re benched from field work,” he said firmly.
“Who did it?”
“Take care of that arm,” he added, tossing her a small first aid kit.
“Stabler,” she muttered.
Don closed the door, leaving Liv frustrated and in pain.
Back in the station's main room, Elliot sat holding an old family photo, silent tears running down his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping them away.
“Any news about her?”
“Not much. The transformation hasn’t progressed yet.”
He stood abruptly, still clutching the photo, and swept everything off his desk with one angry motion.
“But you know what, Don? I hate the rules. I hate the system. I hate all of it—especially the Wheatley group.”
“You know how it works. If a Knight of Darkness attacks you, you’re marked for death.
And if you survive, you're exiled—doomed to lose your humanity until you become something else entirely.”
“Some days, I don’t know which is worse. If I only had…”
The only known antidote to a Knight’s attack was tightly controlled by the Wheatley group—reserved for the elite.
“Take your time,” Don said. “Pull yourself together.”
That night, Olivia waited until everyone had left before slipping into Cragen’s office.
Inside, maps lay in disarray and documents were scattered across the desk—among them, a location, written in code.
She managed to crack it: the whereabouts of Richard Wheatley, one of the highest-ranking Knights of Darkness in the country.
Everything pointed to one of the most exclusive venues in New York City.
It was the perfect hunting ground—where the Knights could find vulnerable targets willing to pay any price for beauty, chasing the standards imposed upon them.
Wheatley projected charm, almost seduction—but whatever humanity he'd once had, was all but gone.
She had to go undercover. Olivia studied her reflection in the mirror, smoothing her face, her hair. How was she going to blend in without the right look… or an invitation?
When she arrived at the location, she spotted Fin and Elliot at a distance, trying to get in.
Their stolen invitations hadn’t worked.
She chuckled quietly at the desperate looks on their faces.
At events like these, brute force meant nothing.
Persuasion, wealth, connections—and good looks—were the only currency that counted.
It was Darwin’s natural selection, just auctioned off to the highest bidder.
She wasn’t in the best position. But even so, dressed in a green evening gown, NYPD-issued fake diamonds, and a silk shawl—the last gift he had given her—she looked the part.
The place was nearly a fortress. There was no way in.
She took a deep breath, calculating her next move.
Her thoughts were a storm, the edge of a headache creeping in.
Richard Wheatley hardly ever showed up in public—and yet, here he was.
Suddenly, a sleek black sedan pulled up.
A handsome, sharply dressed man stepped out, clearly part of the VIP circle… and for a moment, he looked just like him.
“No way…”
He’d vanished after the October attacks last year.
She would never lie to herself about something like this.
Deep breath.
She brushed down her dress with one hand.
“Don’t be afraid. You’ve done this before,” she reminded herself.
She approached him. He turned and met her gaze.
They exchanged a small, familiar smile.
Olivia froze the second she saw him.
“Rafael…” she whispered.
“Excuse me?”
His voice was cold.
“I’m Olivia.”
Rafael brought his hands to his head, searching his memories—fragments of a life before.
A sharp headache hit.
And then… a flash: that same woman, laughing, arguing with him, sharing a glass of wine.
“Liv…” he barely managed to say.
“Rafael?”
“How could I forget the most rebellious, fearless detective in all of New York?”
She smiled—soft, relieved.
A guard was already walking over, but Rafael held up a hand.
“She’s with me.”
His words carried weight in that place.
They were let into the event immediately. The guests seemed to know him—each one
greeted him with a polite nod as they passed.
She walked on his arm, but it felt different. Distant. Not like the man she had loved.
She wanted to ask him so many things, but the fear of losing that moment of closeness held her back.
She studied him carefully. He looked the same—but the light in his eyes was gone.
And so was that smile that had always been just his.
For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to get swept up in the magic of the evening—the elegant candles, the soft, refined music.
“Shall we dance?” he asked, offering his hand.
In that instant, she let herself be taken in by his embrace, by those hands that once made
her fall in love all over again.
She rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself get lost in his familiar scent.
She held him tighter, needing to feel that he was real.
Her hand brushed across Rafael’s face—no scars, not the kind you'd expect after the last attack, the one that had torn them apart.
He looked perfect. But… something felt off. A subtle emptiness. His hand was colder than it should’ve been.
She looked into his eyes, searching for that glimmer she loved so much—the one that gave
him his humanity.
Olivia slowly pulled away, tears threatening to fall, her hands starting to tremble.
“You… you’re not—” she could barely say his name.
“Rafael.”
She trembled—not out of fear, but disappointment.
She brought a shaky hand to her mouth.
“Liv, I…”
Rafael looked at her, and for the briefest moment, that old light returned.
The man devoted to justice. Steady. So deeply human in every choice he made.
Flawed, yes. But meant for her—with all of it.
“Who are you?”
He touched his temple, wincing.
“What’s wrong, Liv? It’s me.”
Liv stepped back.
The echo of footsteps cut through the tension.
“Counselor.”
That voice. The man who had hurt so many of their own.
“Sir,” Rafael greeted him with a nod.
“Richard Wheatley,” the man said smoothly, taking Olivia’s hand and kissing it.
Her hand trembled more. It was starting to sweat. She froze.
“Will you proceed with the deal?” Rafael asked.
“I always keep my word, Counselor,” Wheatley replied, smiling as he held a champagne flute in one hand, and from his pocket, handed Rafael a set of keys.
Olivia stayed still, trying to read between the lines.
Too much civility. Too much familiarity—for someone Rafael had once sworn to destroy.
“Welcome to the group,” Wheatley said, his voice thick with irony and a mocking smile.
She stepped forward, ready to follow Richard and complete her mission.
But Rafael stopped her, gripping her arm tightly.
In an instant, Wheatley was surrounded by large, imposing men.
“Liv, no.”
“Let go of me, Rafael.”
She struggled against him—confirming her suspicion.
This wasn’t Rafael. He would never hurt her.
He yanked her arm with inhuman strength, dragging her through the ballroom.
They descended a long staircase—so long it felt endless.
The only sound was the frantic click of her heels against the stone.
Liv resisted, but he tightened his grip on her wrist. Her skin was turning red under the pressure, while his knuckles showed barely a trace.
She could barely hold back her tears—tears of confusion and disappointment.
They reached a basement. As soon as they entered, Liv could smell chemicals and alcohol.
The room was gray, bleak, and cold, lit only by a dim light.
There was a metal table, a chair, and medical supplies.
She kept struggling. He placed her on the chair and, with practiced hands, tied her down.
“Rafael, what is this?”
“Liv, look at me…”
She turned away, her eyes full of fury and pain.
“I know this feels like betrayal... but it’s not. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then what is this?”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before.”
“Don’t touch me. Why, Rafael? Why you?”
“Liv, everything’s going to be destroyed. It’s natural selection. And I…”
In his voice, in his eyes, that flicker of humanity returned.
“I destroyed myself to survive. I don’t want the same for you… but if you don’t—Liv, they’re going to—”
Silence.
“This is how you plan to save me? By stealing who I am?”
Rafael stepped closer, his eyes trembling.
Silence.
He walked across the room.
“None of this was an accident. The attack. Your wound. The clues you followed. Our meeting.”
He swallowed hard, clearing his throat, while Liv looked at him with hatred and disappointment.
The man she once loved was long gone.
“If we’re on the inside, we can bring justice.”
She looked at him, confused.
“You don’t get to choose for me.”
“I don’t want to become a monster like you!” Olivia shouted.
Her words cut deep—into whatever was left of Rafael’s humanity.
“I love you,” he whispered. “But I’d rather you hate me… than see you dead.”
“After the attack, the transformation’s already started.” He pulled out a syringe.
He moved toward her. Olivia tensed. Her heart began to race, goosebumps rising on her skin, her breath short and shaky.
Suddenly, an iron bar smashed through the door.
Through smoke and chaos, Fin and Elliot burst in.
“Barba, let her go!” Elliot shouted, furious.
“Your powers aren’t working anymore, are they?” Elliot added.
Suddenly, more men stormed in—led by Wheatley.
They grabbed Fin and Elliot by the arms.
“Thank you, Counselor,” Wheatley said with a smirk.
“Checkmate,” he grinned.
Rafael looked into his eyes—and knew. He’d been betrayed.
“You thought you could play both sides.”
“I’m surprised at you, Counselor. You really thought I’d let you join my world?” Wheatley circled him while two massive men restrained Rafael.
“A shame. You’re smart—you would’ve been a valuable addition.
But in my system, there’s no room for error.”
“You’ll lose your powers gradually… then comes the end. That’s how it goes.”
Liv, still tied up, thrashed in her seat. She listened, horrified, unable to believe what she was hearing.
Wheatley turned away and walked off with his usual elegance.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be alone,” he said, caressing Liv’s face. “This beauty will be right there with you.”
Suddenly, explosions. Total chaos. Special agents flooded in, cornering Richard and his men.
Rafael used the moment to untie her.His hands trembled, but his grip was steady when he reached for hers.
For the first time, his touch didn’t hurt her.
“There’s still time to save something, Liv. Maybe not me. But you.”
Olivia’s breath caught. The sound of the sirens was getting closer, but her heartbeat drowned everything else.
She looked at him—shaken, wounded, trembling.
He hand been her enemy, her ally, her. ruin. She hated that part of her still trusted him.
The same part that wanted to believe monsters could change.
“If you stay by my side… it’ll be on my terms.”
Rafael nodded once, accepting it like sentence.
The cold light flickered on the iron bars that had caged them both—now twisted, broken, useless
In the distance, sirens wailed. And behind them… the echo of something darker, closing in.
As those cries tore through the night, Olivia wondered—
Would love win this time, or was it just another kind of surrender?