Chapter 29.

HERA.

ONE MONTHS LATER.

A fact I learnt at a young age: war never truly has a winner.

We dropped bombs on the city that stood outside of the Gray, we dropped them on homes and schools, on hospitals and businesses, and on children and the elderly. I remember crawling through the ash, crawling over my friend's bodies, I remember Hunter pulling me out of the choking dust and fire, and Nero's lifeless body slumped against a building – the golden and silver crosses on his necklace shimmering in the orange explosions of light.

I owned the office the Council once disrespected me in, the office they snorted down on me, the office that was once the Founder's.

I changed everything about it. The dark blacks and the sharp whites replaced with crimsons and rich gold's, just like the Manor had been.

I owned the Gray and its people. I've helped rebuild the destroyed buildings, I've interrogated and punished captured Guard soldiers.

The people cheer my name when I walk in the streets, they cry when I hug them and I promise them that I'll lead this city into a new era.

But yet…I still failed.

Twice I've let go of a Fallow. Twice they've died.

So now here I am, sitting in my comfortable leather chair looking out of a large glass window that let me gaze over my city. Here I am with a heart that's still aching. Here I am an hour after Daniel's funeral with a glass full of liquor in my hand and my golden gun on the table.

And here I am, with nothing but the Gray to show for all of the people that have died for me.

I twisted his chess piece in my fingers. It's a special piece, a piece that was once Hunter's. And now it'll stand on my desk right next to my gun, as a reminder of my failures.

So much to fix and to change in this city.

So much to think about and plan.

So many people I've let down.

A knock rung through my office. I cleared my throat and said, "Come in."

Kira walked in. She had reverted back to her long sleeved t-shirts and eye patch. Her hair was longer now, too, it reached her shoulder blades. She had a backpack on her, an assault rifle hanging over her shoulder and aviators hanging from her collar.

"You're going up north today?" I asked, setting down my glass.

"Yeah," she said. "We haven't really beaten the Gatekeepers, just locked them away. So…we should get the Berserkers over here as fast as possible."

"Kira-"

"I'll probably take Runt with me too. And Cleo, guess she needs the experience." She laughed, her voice cracking. "Cleo hates you, though. She'll probably try and kill you one day."

"You don't have to-"

"I have all my stuff ready so I was just coming in to say-"

I stood up and strode towards her. I hugged her and let her press her face into my neck. Her body shuddered and the cold stream of tears moistened my skin. She wrapped her arms around me and finally let it out. She cried out for him, she rambled and tried to make sense of it. She blamed herself for not being there. She hated herself for making him promise. Her seams were beginning to show. She had found her balance and it had been taken away.

I didn't speak. I let her say everything she had held in for the past month. She had been stoic when we put the empty coffin in the grave. She had been stoic ever since he had fallen from the bridge. She'd walked everywhere with his sunglasses on her collar, she'd sometimes clutch onto them and stare into nothing.

Nero's cross around my neck pressed against Daniel's sunglasses on hers.