“The truth had always been there, but he had been afraid to delve into his past. It only eventually caught up to him anyway, like a relentless monster, gobbling up his entire life, the bones having been spat out, leaving behind a pathetic existence.” - Marie Montine (Arising Son: Part One)

  * * * *

  In the blink of an eye, nearly two months had passed since the mission at Blackpool.

  And in that time, everyone—Ashenridge, the Abyss, Aegis, Zalfari, all the other street gangs, and even the former ESA agents, had been preparing to leave Eldario behind, indifferent to the chaos left in their wake. With Nicolosi dead and the hunters annihilated, the country had erupted into something far more savage than before.

  Just as Larissa predicted, the moment the Gifted vanished and the hunters fell, those who once clung to Nicolosi’s doctrine turned on each other. Without a common enemy, Eldario began devouring itself.

  From what Ethan and Alexis reported, it was a damn bloodbath.

  In the aftermath of the Blackpool mission, the Abyss, Ashenridge, and Aegis, as well as the former ESA, swept through the country, dismantling the hunters’ research labs one by one. The data Raul had extracted from the hunters’ headquarters had been crucial in rooting them all out.

  “We might be leaving Eldario,” Rex had said, “but we owe it to the country of our birth to at least finish this last duty.”

  Now, on the morning of their departure, Sera and Zest stood at the hilltop behind Ashenridge, in front of the memorial stone nestled beneath the weeping branches of the great willow. The same hill Rex had once brought Sera to, the day she first arrived.

  The memorial stone bore the names of those lost in the war—Claudia, Ness, and Tatius among them. White lilies were scattered at its base, mingling with little trinkets and toys left behind by Ashenridge’s children.

  Even now, a thin frost clung to the bark and the stone, remnants of winter stubbornly resisting the thaw. Winter is almost over, and with it, spring would soon come.

  But unlike past springs, it would not bring rebirth. Only death and desolation awaited Eldario now. It’ll be a miracle if there is still anyone left alive in the broken country by the time spring arrives, as Larissa had said.

  “It’s been two months since that day,” Sera murmured, her fingers brushing over the names carved into the stone. “Claudia. Ness. Tatius…”

  Beside her, Zest remained silent, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to.

  A breeze stirred, and Sera could feel the bitter cold lingering in the air, despite the sun’s attempt to break through. One season ending. Another beginning. But this time, no one was looking forward to what it would bring.

  “Sera! Zest!” The call came from below. Raul waved from the base of the hill, with Lucie standing beside him. “We’re doing a final sweep before we leave,” Raul said. “Come on!”

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  “All right. We’re coming!” Sera called back, before she rose to her feet, pulling a crumpled photograph from her coat pocket.

  It was a picture of Aegis, taken on the night of Lucie’s eighteenth birthday. It felt like so long ago now. They were all gathered in the main lounge of the boathouse, sprawled across couches and barstools. Sera had been sitting on the counter. Ness had taken the photo, grinning behind the lens.

  Sera’s throat tightened. She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back, and tucked the photo away. Then she turned to Zest. “Let’s go.”

  He gave a quiet nod, and together, they descended the hill, joining Raul and Lucie.

  ‘It’s almost spring,’ Sera thought to herself, even as a pale petal fluttered from the willow and landed on her outstretched palm. ‘A springtime that we never thought we’d live to see. The flowers are blooming again.’ The wind stole the petal from her hand, and Sera turned away, following the others down toward the shoreline where a fleet of boats waited. ‘In this country that you have protected… Claudia… Ness… Tatius… I wonder how many tomorrows have come and gone since then?’

  Rex stood by the beach when they arrived, with a clipboard in one hand, and a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He looked resigned, yet also hopeful for a new beginning.

  “We did the final sweep,” he reported. “Even ran another for good measure to ensure that nothing is left behind. Ashenridge is sealed. The Abyss is ready. Leroy and the others will meet us at the rendezvous point.”

  “A floating town,” Raul murmured, recalling their discussions in the wake of Blackpool. “Figures. The Abyss doesn’t need solid ground to survive. Just sails.”

  Zest nodded. “Merchant fleets, cargo ships, boathouses, refitted yachts—whatever we could get our hands on. Some are even planning to build a greenhouse on one of the freighters for food. We’ll be self-sufficient, even in the colder seasons. And there’s no law saying we can’t take mercenary work in other countries. The world’s heard about Eldario. They know what we’re capable of.” He paused, his eyes sharp beneath the fall of his hair. “But we’ll never serve another nation. We protect our own. That hasn’t changed.”

  Silence settled over the group, until Lucie asked, “So… Have they decided on a name for this floating town of ours?”

  “There were a few being tossed around,” Sera said, a small smile playing on her lips. “But right now, Solara is the one that stuck.”

  “Nice,” Lucie murmured.

  Sera turned toward the boats. “Come on. We need to move if we want to reach the rendezvous point on time.”

  They all nodded. Sera, Zest, Raul, and Lucie boarded Aegis’s boathouse, with Neil already waiting at the helm, while Rex headed toward the vessel he shared with Mara and some of the others from Ashenridge.

  A whistle cut through the air.

  Then, one by one, the boats began to pull away from the shoreline of what was once Zone 0. The place now called Ashenridge.

  Behind them, the land of Eldario faded into mist.

  It was a bittersweet sight, one that twisted in Sera’s chest like a knife, as she stood atop the rooftop of the boathouse beside Zest. Behind them, the outlines of Ashenridge were shrinking, swallowed slowly by mist and sea spray, until even the jagged edges of Eldario’s broken coastline began to fade from view.

  “I can’t help but feel like we failed,” she murmured. Zest said nothing at first. Sera’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon. “I know we did what needed to be done. We stopped Nicolosi. We dismantled the hunters. We saved who we could.” A breath caught in her throat. “And yet… It still feels like a failure. Leaving the country that we were born in. The land we bled for.” She paused. “…The place that caused so much pain and heartbreak.”

  A beat passed.

  Then a sharp caw split the air, and a black blur descended from the skies—Hugo, his wings slicing the wind as he landed neatly on the railing beside Zest. The raven blinked once, ruffled his feathers in protest, and gave a little croak of disapproval, clearly annoyed that Zest had almost left without him.

  Zest let out a low chuckle and stroked Hugo’s sleek feathers. “Maybe we didn’t fail,” he said quietly. “Maybe we just outlived a nation that already had.”

  Below, in the main lounge of the boathouse, sunlight streamed in through wide windows, casting golden light across the worn wood floors.

  Laura O’Boyle stood by the window, letting the sea breeze tug at her hair as the sound of waves lapped against the hull. Somewhere upstairs, laughter echoed, and Laura managed a small smile.

  It had been months since any of them had laughed like that. Nearly a year of bloodshed, loss, and war.

  But maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something else. Something gentler. Something new. A new beginning. One where they no longer have to live as fugitives.

  Laura’s gaze drifted toward the small altar in the corner.

  Sera had built it after Claudia and Ness were lost. Tatius’s name had been added not long after. A framed photo sat beside it—Aegis, together, smiling during Lucie’s eighteenth birthday. A moment preserved in light, before the darkness had swallowed everything.

  Laura returned to her leather-bound journal, its pages weathered, the ink dark and steady beneath her hand.

  The spring this year seems especially beautiful. Have you seen them? The flowers are blooming. The sea is calm.

  So much has happened in just one year. So much unhappiness has come out of it. So much sorrow.

  But… It’s over. It’s finally over.

  The nightmare has ended.

  Her pen hovered for a moment, then continued, slower this time, like she was writing not for herself, but for someone far away—someone who might read this long after her bones were dust.

  To you, probably hundreds, if not thousands of years from now, will you be able to answer this question of mine? Were humans able to change?

  My name is Laura O’Boyle, one of the members of Aegis. And this is my story.