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Blake was used to the silence.  That didn’t mean she liked it - it didn’t belong where cheer and happiness once lived - but she preferred it to the alternative.  Noise came with a dangerous price these days, and signs of life often preceded the loss of it.

Those thoughts lingered at the forefront of her mind while she crossed a dirt road packed solid from decades of heavy carts and hooves trodding upon it.  The only thing keeping the street from being smooth as a sheet of ice were the divots left by the talons of Vale’s fabled firebeasts.  Fortunately, those creatures were nowhere to be found, leaving her to sneak through the village unannounced.

The silence grew more pronounced as the sky darkened.  What few people she stumbled across were nothing more than shadows, glimpses of life that sent her heart racing before they disappeared down alleyways or into dark buildings.  She couldn’t blame them for keeping a distance, especially as the light faded and a sinister aura settled over the area.

She wished they didn’t tread so lightly, so silently, as if they were one wrong step away from disaster, but she kept her footsteps just as quiet and light while moving down the next street.  Her gaze swept from one side of the road to the next, quickly documenting everything she saw even though what she saw made her heart tighten and her fingers curl into loose fists.

In every settlement, she searched for signs of improvement.  She hoped for anything suggesting that some measure of healing had begun.  Instead, ruin and despair greeted her at every turn.  The town hall?  Destroyed.  The small shops lining the street?  Boarded up or ransacked.  The modest apartments above the storefronts or the simple houses standing nearby?  Quiet and most assuredly locked.

Here, as with every other village she had visited over the past few months, people were scared to leave their homes.  And if they were scared to leave their homes, how could life ever return to normal?

Nearby motion tore her attention away from that thought and sent her ducking into a dark, narrow alley between two stores.  Her pulse had already quickened by the time she realized what she just did and shook her head.

She was scared, too.  She had seen what happened to those who threw caution to the wind.  She had seen what happened when silence suddenly erupted into chaos.  She had learned that vigilance came before anything else.

But if people like her didn’t stand up, no one would.  So, rather than hide until the noise passed, she forced herself to remain calm and searched for the source.

From the uneven, shuffling steps, it was likely only one person.  Daring to investigate further, she poked her head around the corner and spotted someone slowly crossing the street.  Though a long, dirty cloak obscured many details, it appeared to be a woman - possibly middle-aged, with a limp in her step and a heavy bag dragging through the dirt behind her.

The bag looked heavy.  At least, that was how it seemed when she stopped midway across the street to rest.  The way she rubbed her elbow, which refused to budge from its stiff right angle, suggested something worse than sore muscles.  For a second, Blake considered leaving - she had business elsewhere, after all - but the thought hardly crossed her mind before she stepped out of the shadows.

“Do you need help?”

Her voice cut through the silence like an alarm, and the woman spun toward her as if whipped around by a tornado.  No sooner had she caught sight of Blake did she reach for the bag, her posture coiling in preparation to run.

“Wait.”  Blake quickly raised her hands to show that she meant no harm.  “My name’s Blake; I’m with the Resistance.  I can help carry your bag if you’d like.”

Blake motioned to the bag on the ground, but the woman tugged it closer.  Even with those minor reassurances, she was rightfully wary.  In the best-case scenario, Blake helped her carry her bag home.  In the worst-case scenario, Blake meant to cause physical harm or run off with whatever precious possessions she had left.

“You’re sick,” Blake added, nodding to the woman’s still-bent elbow.  “Please let me help you.  It’s the least I can do.”

The woman’s eyes asked how Blake knew, but she’d seen the symptoms too many times to miss them: joints that stiffened until they locked in place, followed by petrification of the rest of the body.  For those who were lucky, their hearts would give out before then.  For the less fortunate...Blake often wondered how long consciousness remained.  Was death instantaneous?  Or did the mind linger longer than the soul?

This woman appeared to be in the early stages of the disease but, even so, the tightness in her arms made it difficult to carry anything.  That was probably the only reason why she lowered the bag’s strap to the ground and stepped away.

Interpreting the silent gesture as permission, Blake slowly moved closer and picked up the bag.  It was heavier than expected, and unwieldy due to its abnormal size, but she secured it over her shoulder and motioned for the woman to lead the way.  They crossed the main street without a word and turned onto a smaller path leading into more cramped quarters.  The enclosed space raised Blake’s alertness - this woman could pose a grave threat to her, too - so she cautiously observed her surroundings.

The homes were stacked practically on top of one another here.  Each tiny shelter was likely a few small rooms and nothing more, with the only distinguishing feature being the color of the front door.  Although Blake knew, or assumed, that many people still lived here, the neighborhood was silent.  A young boy with dirty clothes and gaunt skin sat on a doorstep up ahead, drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick, but he hurried inside the moment he spotted them.

Blake sighed at the brief interaction and hardened her shoulder so that the strap stopped digging into her skin.  Neighbors used to trust each other - help each other - but everyone looked out for themselves these days.  Trusting anyone was next to impossible with raiders popping up everywhere, terrorizing the remaining residents.  And what the people weren’t stealing from each other, the armies would gladly commandeer for themselves.

After passing several rows of houses with only flickers of life inside, the woman stepped off the path and nodded to a small home with a blue door.  The sun had bleached the color over the years, but Blake imagined that it was once a bright, cheerful blue that added to the rainbow of colors on the street.

“This is it?”

In lieu of answering, the woman pulled out a set of keys and moved to the door.  Her stiff fingers struggled to fit the key into the lock, and it was with great difficulty that she unlocked the door and pushed it open just a crack.

“Is there someone who can take care of you?” Blake asked, her concern growing at the dark, lifeless room inside.

“My husband died long ago.”  The woman’s rough, gravelly voice sounded as if she hadn’t spoken in quite some time, but the grief in her pale green eyes stood out most.  “And my baby boy…” she added before falling silent.  Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears as her gaze fell to the bag Blake carried.  “Thank you for your help…” she added while reaching for it.  “Maybe there are still kind people in the world.”

As she took the bag and disappeared into the darkness, likely never to be seen again, Blake stared at the faded blue door and locked her hands into fists strong enough to go through a wall but incapable of doing anything to ease the grief weighing on her heart.  If the war didn’t tear them apart, the Phage would.  The best they could hope for was to die with dignity.  Even then, most weren’t afforded the luxury.

There was nothing Blake could do, but that didn’t mean she wouldn't still try.  Uncurling her clenched fingers, she focused on her spark and watched a mound of muted gray stone appear in the palm of her hand.  She lacked the strength or discipline to form anything exquisite, but she trained every bit of her energy on the mental image of a wildflower she saw recently.  Under her direction, small oval petals etched themselves around the center of stone while a stem lengthened and thinned between her fingers.  Before long, she held a modest stone flower in her hand.

After slowly spinning the stem between her thumb and forefinger, she delicately placed it on the doorstep and left the silent home behind.  While hurrying through the narrow passageways, she tried to leave the memories behind.  Dwelling on the simmering rage and swell of sadness would surely be the end of her.

No one could be blamed for the Phage, but she knew who to blame for the war.

Just what they needed with a disease killing them from the inside was a war killing them from everywhere else.  The worst part was that the fighting had no purpose.  What was the dispute?  Where was the land being contested?  There was none.  It was nothing more than two powerful kingdoms trading blows, vying for superiority in this section of the world.

If it weren’t for the earth running through her, stronger than most, she would have perished in the bloodshed long ago.  Instead, she relied upon her skill and spark to survive.  Others weren’t so fortunate.

In a world that assigned power based on the strength of the elements flowing through their veins, and where that strength was determined by some hidden lineage no one understood, the weakest suffered.  They were taken advantage of, broken, beaten, and left to die while some far-away ruler sent armies to resolve their petty arguments.  In this case, Vale and Atlas decided to fight their war on someone else’s soil.

As a midway point between the two kingdoms, the Badlands were too convenient.  And with little cohesion between the collection of small settlements and no representation within the kingdoms, they had no hope of fighting back.  They didn’t have armies; they didn’t have soldiers.  All they had were farms to grow crops and streams to fish in.  At least, they used to have prosperous farming and fishing.  Now all they had were burned fields and rival armies killing anyone who dared venture too far in one direction or the other.

With their food sources destroyed and their paths out of the valley cut off, their quickly depleting resources caused widespread desperation.  Businesses closed or were robbed of their wares.  Neighbors turned to looting and stealing from each other.  Others formed bands of outlaws that made the miserable situation even worse.  And the Badlands rightfully earned its new moniker.

She joined the Resistance to fight back.  To stand up for the weak as they were thrown to the mercy of the ‘great’ kingdoms.  She wasn’t the only one tired of watching her home be destroyed.  Together, she and those like her were determined to keep the armies away from their homes and livelihoods.  If Vale and Atlas wanted to fight their war, fine.  But they should do it without dragging innocent lives into it.

Reaching the edge of the settlement, where sporadic Resistance forces offered some semblance of life, she sighed and hurried to her destination.  As the sun set on another long day, she kept a close eye out for campfires on the horizon.  The orange glows gave away nearby threats - at the base of the mountain to the north, Atlesian Knights and their snow-white steeds.  To the south, Vale’s Elites and their giant, scaly beasts.

The two armies had been in a holding pattern for several days now, making it only a matter of time before one marched on the other.  When that day came, Blake would have to once again try to protect the sliver of land she called home.  The only thing they could do before then was plan, prepare, take care of their wounded, and try to gather as many resources as possible.

Finding supplies had become increasingly difficult as the armies strangled any form of functioning trade.  Not that the settlements produced much now anyway, but what they did stood great risk of being stolen by the first group of soldiers who took notice.

Blake clenched her jaw at the thought while passing partially destroyed houses that had been repurposed for Resistance purposes.  Under ordinary circumstances, she would disagree with commandeering someone’s home without permission.  But with the owners long gone and the Resistance’s need for temporary shelter growing...taking issue was difficult to do.

Night had officially fallen by the time she reached a small house that had miraculously survived this long with all of its doors and windows intact.  After nodding to two Resistance fighters patrolling nearby, no doubt on the lookout for movement in Vale’s forces, Blake knocked twice on the door before letting herself inside.

The small, well-lit room beyond had only a small bed, a tiny kitchen, and a desk shoved against the far wall.  At that desk, poring over maps and information gathered by Resistance fighters in the nearby settlements, stood a tall, lean man with short auburn hair and a sizable scar covering one eye.  The scowl on his lips implied anger at what was in front of him - some hidden frustration buried within the troop locations, estimated sizes, and well-guarded supply routes.  By now, Blake knew better than to believe his scowl was a temporary state.  He was always angry.

“Blake,” he said without turning around, knowing it was her by the knock alone.

“Adam.”

Joining him at the desk, she studied the map holding his attention.  It looked like Boward, a neighboring settlement that was both larger and in better condition.  At least, it was in better condition the last time she was there...

“What’re you doing?” she asked when Adam didn’t offer an explanation.

“Planning our next move.”  He still didn’t look at her.  He tapped several different points on the map, each marked with a small ‘x,’ and said, “This will be perfect.”

“Perfect for what?”

“Our next move.”

He knew he caught her attention - and annoyance - with the cryptic response, but his lips curled in a smug smile as he finally turned toward her.

“What did you say the other day…?” he began while stepping closer.  He lifted his hand as if he might set it on her arm, but she moved away and tried to remember what she said.  The effort was for not because he continued without letting her speak.

“We need more fighters.  But to get them, we need the settlements on our side.”

She frowned at the response, and she nearly shook her head before stopping herself.  She remembered saying that they needed to unite the Badlands because doing so would create a stronger front on which to stand their ground.  She didn’t remember saying anything about gathering more fighters, but Adam always had a way of twisting her words.

“We need a united front,” she corrected, taking care not to let irritation slip into her tone.

“We need to gather strength,” he restated.  “And how do we bring sentiment onto our side?”

“Help however we can.  Fend off attacks, distribute supplies, rebuild infrastructure...prove that we’re here to help.”

“That’s what we’ve been doing.”

When Blake tilted her head, he stepped closer - forcing her to look up at him - and smirked down at her.

“Haven’t you noticed how many recruits we get after a battle tears through their homes?”

In one sentence, her heart stopped beating.

“No -”  She shook her head, but his expression remained unchanged.

“What if one of the armies did something...something worse than anything they’ve done before?  What if they prove that they’re the enemy, not us?  When word spreads, what would prevent everyone from joining our side?  Pledging loyalty and taking up arms -”

“Adam,” she interrupted, her heart racing now.  “What are you planning?”

“We’re going to wipe Boward off the map.”

Her eyes widened at the idea and how casually he stated it, but he simply nodded, squared his shoulders, and paced in front of her.

“We have those charges - the ones from Atlas.  If we place them right, the entire village will crumble.  Fire will turn the rest to ash.”

“But…why?” Blake whispered, too horrified to look away.  “Why would we ever do that?”

“To rally the rest of the settlements to our cause.”

“By killing innocent people??”

“Unfortunate losses.  But when word of what happened spreads, opposition will disappear.  The rest of the settlements will beg to join us.”

He spoke confidently - certainly - as if this ‘solution’ would undoubtedly come to pass.  When he returned to her and set his heavy, warm hands on her arms, however, she shook her head and pulled away.

“We can’t do that.”

“Yes, we can.”  Determination in his eyes, he stepped even closer, backing her toward the wall with every advance.  “And once we do, the Resistance will triple in size.  All of the Badlands...united.  From there, it’s only a matter of time before Vale or Atlas comes to us, and we pick who we ally with.”

His plan was worse than anything Vale or Atlas had done so far.  These weren’t unintended casualties; these were murders.  From his resolved expression, he thought nothing of committing a calculated, horrendous war crime.  To him, it was just a means to an end, and his growing lack of empathy terrified her.  So much so that when he reached up and brushed his fingers through her hair, she knocked his hand away.

“Stop,” she snapped, noticing the flash of anger in his eyes but not caring about his personal feelings at the moment.  “You can’t just destroy an entire settlement.  That goes against everything we’re fighting for.”

“How much longer do you want to watch people suffer?” he shot back, his lips set in a snarl.  “We have to strike back.  We can’t wait forever.”

With her back against the wall, she watched fury burn in his eyes at the ‘wait’ they had suffered.  Or did he mean the ‘wait’ she had put him through?

That didn’t matter right now.  What he proposed was heinous, unconscionable, and wrong.

“No.”

That was the most finite disagreement she had ever given him, and his expression immediately clouded while a wave of heat warned that his anger neared its boiling point.  But she refused to go along with this plan.  She might have agreed to some of his questionable ideas in the past, but she had learned her lesson.  Countless lives would be lost, and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

Just like he didn’t bat an eye at her refusal.  His scowl only deepened.

“You don’t have a choice.  The decision was already made; it happens tonight.”

“Tonight?” she repeated, her worry increasing tenfold as she met the eyes of a man determined to slaughter.  “Adam, you can’t do this.  It’s not right -”

As soon as the word slipped through her lips, he slammed his hand against the wall by her head, so close that she flinched.

“Do you think it’s right that they fight their war on our land?  Do you think it’s right that they burn our homes and destroy what they see fit?  Does any of that sound right to you?”

“Of course not,” she whispered.  But she didn’t believe in fighting evil with evil.  She didn’t believe in being callous with innocent lives.

“This is the only way.”  With his arm still trapping her against the wall, he leaned closer and lowered his voice.  “Once this is done, we’ll have an army at our command.  Then we -”  He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers down her cheek.  “Will rule this place.  Together.”

The glint in his eyes sent a shiver of repulsion through her veins, but the moment she turned away, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.  The quickness to aggression kicked her fear into overdrive, but she forced herself to remain calm while every cell in her body screamed at her to shove him away.

“Let go of me,” she said, hearing anger in her voice even though she remained perfectly still.  Instead of doing as she said, he gripped her chin hard enough that she felt his fingers bruising her jaw.

“Why do you still fight it, Blake?” he asked, his tone dangerous and low while tendrils of heat seeped from his skin.

The rising temperature increased her fear right along with it, and she soon found herself calling upon her own spark to protect herself.  Hardening her skin blocked the heat from slipping through and eased the pain where his fingers dug into her jaw, but he reacted to her self-defense with even more heat, even more anger.

Before he said or did anything else, someone knocked on the door.  The interruption drew his gaze away, and his scowl deepened when he realized their conversation was over.

“This changes nothing,” he said, releasing her with a slight shove when the door opened and another Resistance fighter stepped inside.  “One day, you’ll give in.”

She didn’t respond; she glared at him before storming out of the building.  Her eyes stung with tears, her heart raced with rage, but she couldn’t focus on herself right now.  Not when so many lives were at stake.

“Blake!” someone called out in a hushed whisper.

“Not now, Sun,” she said, holding her tears at bay while the blonde-haired boy fell into step by her side.

“Everything ok?”

“No.”

“He treats you like shit.”

“Now’s not the time,” she repeated, quickening her pace toward the broken-down barn where they had stashed their recent haul from Atlas’ cache.  “We have bigger problems.”

“Ok, but he still treats you like shit.”

“It doesn’t matter how he treats me.  He’s going to destroy Boward if we don’t stop him.”

Sun stopped walking, briefly frozen by the information, before hurrying to catch up.

“Wait, what?  You can’t be serious -”

“I am.”

She wished that it wasn’t true.  She wished that she wasn’t serious.  Unfortunately, Adam had no qualms getting his hands dirty.  But this?  This was a new low, even for him.

Signs of life in the barn only made the situation more real, and her heart beat even faster.  After nodding to the watchman posted outside the door, she hurried inside and found several men packing the small bundles of explosives into saddle bags, just like Adam said.  They moved quickly and carefully, making sure every bundle was secure before returning to the box for more.  The horses shuffled side to side in the process, picking up on the restless anticipation in the air.

“Stop,” Blake called out while striding over to the three men.  “You can’t do this.”

The trio shared long looks before all but one went back to work.

“Sorry, Blake...Adam’s orders.”

“Those are innocent people,” she pressed, and he hung his head in shame.  “We swore to protect them,” she added while the other two men stored away more packages.  “We’re supposed to help them.  They have families - friends - they’re our neighbors.”

They understood what she meant.  They understood what they were about to do - that was why the guilt in the air was so thick.  But, instead of stopping, the man looked up at her and squared her jaw.

“If we don’t do it, Atlas or Vale will eventually get to them anyway.  At least we can make sure it’s quick.”

When he nodded once and went to check the straps securing the saddle upon his horse, Blake stared after him in horror.  The Badlands weren’t what they once were, but that didn’t mean the people living here were worth sacrificing.  These weren’t chess pieces.  These were living, breathing beings with hopes and dreams of one day making it through this mess.

“You can’t…” she whispered, more to herself than to the three men in front of her, whose grim expressions reflected determination to accomplish Adam’s plan.

She could stop them.  She could physically prevent them from leaving the barn, but then what?  If she stopped this, what next?  How many other plans would she need to thwart?  How many innocent lives would be lost if she failed?

Adam was in charge of the Resistance.  He called the shots, and his orders were followed out of blind faith, false hope, or fear.  If she wanted to stop this, she had to change his mind.  She had to convince him to listen to her...or to do this for her.

“Wait.”  Before one of the men swung himself up onto the horse, she grabbed his hand to stop him.  “Let me talk to him.  Just...give me thirty minutes.”

After sharing a glance with his two friends, he reluctantly nodded.  They didn’t want to anger Adam any more than she did, but they also didn’t want to go through with this - she could see that written on their faces.  Granted a reprieve, she turned around and raced out of the barn.  Her stomach churned at the thought of the interaction to come and the repercussions from it, but she had finally reached the point of no return.

“Blake,” Sun asked, jogging beside her as they left the barn behind.  “What do we do?”

“Let me think, Sun.”

She didn’t have time to stew on the anger and sadness brewing in her chest.  If she didn’t act now, countless lives would be lost.  More innocent lives would be lost.  Even if Adam was right - even if this brought the rest of the settlements to their side - it wasn’t worth the cost.

‘One day, you’ll give in.’

He was right, but he also gave her no choice.  Even though he knew this wasn’t about him or her or any individual, he made this about her until she bent her will.  He made this about her until she gave in to what she had seen coming for months now.

To save her community...to save lives...he left her no choice.

As cold, harsh reality seeped through her veins, she stopped walking, closed her eyes, and set a hand over her heart.  This was something she never wanted to happen.  Something she had hoped to avoid by any means necessary.  Instead, he forced her hand.  Forced her to choose.

Which would she rather save...Boward or her soul?

Adam already knew the answer, and that was what made him a monster.  She had never seen that more clearly than now, as she stood beneath the stars on a night that should be blessed with sounds of happiness and levity.  Instead, campfires cast their threatening orange glow in the distance.  Crumbling buildings cast eerie shadows in the night.  And acceptance flowed through her as she took a deep, shaky breath.

“Do I have your support?” she asked Sun.

“Of course, Blake.  Always.”  He chuckled - nervous but trying not to show it.  “Not just my support, you know.”

Welcoming that small measure of reassurance, she nodded and headed to the small house Adam had commandeered for himself.

“But Blake -”

“Please don’t ask.”

Holding onto her resolve grew harder with every step, and they reached the small building far faster than she would have liked.  Her hands trembled knowing what waited for her beyond the door, but she clenched her fingers into fists and swallowed her burgeoning fear.

“Wait outside and make sure no one disturbs us.”

When Sun froze, his eyes widening at the order, Blake sent him a pointed look.  Fortunately, he didn’t ask questions.  He just nodded, so she crossed the porch, knocked on the door, and let herself inside.  Adam stood at the desk finalizing his plan but turned around and smirked when he spotted her.

“You always come back.”

The response sent a shiver through Blake’s chest and made her question who she really was.  How could he think he knew her so well yet believe that throwing away innocent lives was something she would agree with?

“I’m sorry for my reaction,” she said while gently calling upon her spark to protect her.  Her skin tightened as the earth coursing through her veins grew harder and stronger.  She didn’t need much; she only needed enough to stop trembling.

“To what?” he asked while walking over.  Again, he stepped into her personal space without permission and waited only a second before running his hand through her hair.  Willing herself not to pull away, she took a deep breath.

“To your plan.”

Remaining calm grew harder when he moved even closer, sensing his opportunity to cross boundaries and wasting no time capitalizing on it.  The heat from his skin brushed against hers, sending a shiver down her spine.  His gaze locked onto her in a possessive, wanting way she had never encouraged, prompting her to swallow before attempting to speak.

“I just think…”

Her voice faltered when his fingers grazed her ear, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to meet his gaze.

“I just think we should plan it out more,” she whispered.  “It’s a big decision...we shouldn’t rush it.”

When his other hand landed on her side, she stiffened and swallowed the urge to shove him away.  She couldn't push him away.  She had to let him closer.  Closer than she had ever let him before.

“You think you’ll convince me out of it.”  He pressed forward with a patronizing smile, his greedy eyes roving over her.  “I’ve made my decision, but I might be willing to delay for a day or two.”

As his eyes glinted with triumph and his fingers tightened around her waist, she finally saw behind the mask.  She saw the monster behind the man.  Unfortunately, it was too late for her now.

He gave her no choice but to give in.  To accept their inescapable reality.

“I’ve made my decision, too…” she whispered.

Before he processed the words, she formed a small stone dagger in her hand and slammed it into his chest.  A breath of air rushed through his lips as the blade tore through his heart, but he didn’t even move.  He just stared at the stone protruding from his chest, at her hand holding it in place, and the hot blood seeping everywhere.

It felt like a lifetime, but it was only seconds before his spark kicked in.  Flames surged from his hands and blasts of heat scorched the room, forcing her to further harden her skin to keep herself from being burned.  But there was no blast of fury like she expected.  His heart was already slowing.  His eyes already fading.

“Blake -”

For a second, he looked angry, then he let out a sigh that rattled through his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he fell to his knees, taking the dagger with him.  Her heart felt like it was bleeding just like his, her blood burning just like the blood covering her hands.  “I’m sorry…I can’t let you do it.  I can’t let you throw away more innocent lives.”

Watching him raise one shaking hand to touch the stone in his chest, she took a step back and felt tears sting her eyes.  That feeling only grew when he finally met her gaze and scoffed, sounding annoyed by what she just dared to do.  Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed sideways to the floor.

Covering her mouth with one hand, she dropped to her knees by his side and heard the sobs slip out.  Her tears flowed freely now.  Her vision blurred and her hands shook uncontrollably.  Blood pooled on the floor beneath him - the same blood that was, and would forever be, on her hands.

Of course this was how it ended.  For as long as they had known each other, he had pushed her further and further across her moral boundaries.  Of course his last moments would push her even further - of course he would make her a murderer just like him.

He left her no choice.  He forced her to give in...and accept that he was a monster.

And, in typical Adam fashion, he hadn’t even left her time to grieve.  She couldn’t stay here forever when those men would head to Boward any minute now.  So, after pushing herself to her feet, she wiped his blood on her pants, wiped her tears away, and left him behind.  As soon as she stepped onto the front porch, Sun rushed over.

“Blake?”  Seeing the blood covering her hands, he grew more concerned.  “Are you ok?  Did he hurt you??”

While he searched for injuries, Blake closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“He’s dead.”

“What?”

“Adam’s dead,” she repeated.  The words stirred a mixture of emotions in her chest - anguish, fear...relief.   “Tell the men in the barn.  Tell them the mission’s canceled.  We’ll regroup in the morning.”

“But they’ll…Blake, they’ll know who did it.”

“I know,” she whispered before letting her shoulders slump and walking away.  She knew Sun wanted to follow her.  Fortunately, he ran off to deliver the order instead.  He would find her with updates later.  In the meantime...she needed to be alone.

She wouldn’t cry for the monster.  She would cry for herself, and she would cry for the man she once believed in.  The man who was supposed to be their savior.

Comments

Dragon-sama

Getting rid of some of the typical antagonists early. I like it haha. It's going to really have an impact on Weiss and Blake's psyche though, considering all these characters put them through, so it'll be intriguing to see how this impacts the story going forward. These introductory chapters are heavy for our cast so far. Only one left with Yang. I wonder just what exactly her first chapter is going to entail. Definitely hyped for next week!