May 5th, 2026.
Upon having completed his mission of eradicating rogue Evolutionaries around a 400-meter radius surrounding the clock tower, Ace passed out. The remaining citizens were located throughout the city by the collective efforts of all remaining members of Riot and the Evolutionary brass.
In the end, it was discovered that a whopping 1,000 non-combatants were killed during the initial bombings. 50 survivors would be recovered from critically injured while another 200 were unscathed entirely. Katie Moon and Alexander Amara were initially missing in action, but upon further inspection, it became clear to everyone that Death's Source and the Judge's signature Requiem essence were powering the newly-erected Tower.
One week after the fighting had ended, the Tower ascended into the sky, seemingly returning to the heavens. Everyone was justifiably astonished. Even Ace's arrogant bravado was speechless when presented with such an unbelievable spectacle made reality before his eyes.
"At long last. The sun shines on us yet again," Azazel uttered, standing amid the rubble.
Natalia, removing goggles from her eyes, felt the heat of the sun leak from the sky and onto her face.
This felt prophetical. An inimitable scenery akin that foretold the end of the world. After all the death, the last standing remnants of humanity would be none other than the same Requiem Subjects previously despised by the world.
"Isn't it ironic?" Natalia spoke, garnering Azazel's turned head. "We've been working so hard and for so long, wishing to achieve true peace. Now we're on the brink of it. I just never thought we'd have to resort… to an end like this," she said.
The Detective sighed. Dropping the shovel, he walked on over to Natalia and placed his hand on her shoulder. Glancing over so she could make out the older man's bearded features, she noticed the darkened puffiness under his eyes.
"Let's go. It's good to rest every once in a while," he suggested.
His hoarse voice mixed with his eye-bags made for a deadly combination. Removing the goggles from her head, she chuckled.
"You should learn how to take your advice, old man," she advised, beginning to walk away alongside him.
"I guess you're right," he quickly replied.
'From that day on, Azazel changed. He was no longer the voice of reason we all came to know him as. August's death, Katie and Alex's disappearance and not to mention the entire world's unstoppable destruction. Nobody questioned it. But somebody who witnessed all those things would undoubtedly turn out the same way he did… only a week following the fighting's climax.'
Laid within her hollow room, June's fingers held the blood vial above her face. The same blood that would allegedly give her godlike power. Before the vial could fall against her features, she caught it and sighed. Then, her eyes shot toward the window, catching the dancing branches of a nearby tree.
The leaves fluttering in tandem with the wind's breeze sent chills across her skin. Her cheek against the pillow, her eyes reflecting the trees' green branches. More than anything, she felt that… all of the world's darkness was inconsequential compared to this scenery.
The young girl was motionless against her bed, hoping that simple scenery outside from her window would remain in her mind's eye forevermore, sunk ever further into the depths of her dream. The world she saw wasn't the truth, it was beautiful and miniature. So what? Even if she deemed herself intentionally ignorant, this was what she wanted. Amid this euphoric sensation, June's thoughts coursed through her head.
'I don't need to save the world to find meaning in my life. This… this is enough…'
For someone like June, the world's collapse was irrelevant. For someone like June—this little moment stretched into infinity was good enough for her. If she could stay here eternally, that was good enough for her.
…
Outside the window was the undeniable reality every human was forced to endure. Amid the outside world walked her older brother, his hands pocketed. Ace turned a corner and spotted the 50s–themed restaurant.
Stepping across the marble-reflective floor, he shuffled into a booth and sat across from his black-haired lover. Removing the menu covering her face, their discolored eyes met.
"How's your lunch?" Ace asked, shedding his black leather jacket.
"Considering I haven't gotten it yet, pretty good," Kima replied.
"Thought so," he commented.
The waitress walked to the edge of the table, branding a pen and notepad. She asked, "Are you two ready to order?"
"Yeah. Caesar salad and fries for me, please," Kim ordered, handing her the menu.
"Chicken tenders and fries. Soda, too. Coke, please," he ordered after his girlfriend, handing his menu to the waitress.
Following the duos' order, the worker retreated to the kitchen. Scrolling through her phone, Kim leaned back and sipped water from the straw. Between the two, an aberrant silence reigned supreme.
Then, Ace grabbed her wrist, faltering whatever typing she was doing against the device's keyboard. Myers' purple pupils raised from the shining screen, momentarily meeting the ginger's scarlet retinas before averting her gaze yet again.
"Is there something wrong?" wondered Kim.
"Don't play dumb with me," he answered.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Closing her phone with one tap, her fingers interlocked and she glared forward. "Tell me, Ace. What's wrong?" she questioned.
He rolled his eyes, sinking his knuckles against his white cheek. "You haven't come home ever since the fighting ended. I heard you talked to June and Azazel about it but not me. Why is that?" he asked, shooting his marked pupils toward her.
Despite being confronted so openly, Kim contained her composure. The right words came to her mind upon unhinging her jaw and opening her mouth.
"Because things have been getting too chaotic. I know what we've been fighting for and I advanced nevertheless. But…" Kima paused, her bottom lip quivering.
"But…?" The ginger impatiently repeated.
"But I can't accept an end like this!" she declared, slamming her fist against the table simultaneously.
"An end where our survival is assured?" Ace mocked, diverting his gaze from her eyes to the window.
"I can't accept our survival knowing it's built upon other peoples' deaths. I'm sorry, but as long as you support what Katie and Alex are doing, I don't want to be with you."
Kima wondered what she expected from him. She thought back to when they first got together. Had he always been this way—or had something happened that made him like this? In retrospect, was there any point in asking that question a second time? After all, she already knew the answer, didn't she?
Despite what he'd been told, his bottom remained plastered against the booth. Detaching his knuckles from his cheek, Ace ensured his and Kim's gaze was connected.
"I won't change my mind," he told her.
"I know," she swiftly answered.
He looked out the window, sighing while scratching his head. He couldn't avoid this. Despite his human desires that urged her to remain beside him longer, it was pointless. They were breaking up. But, he wouldn't be someone defined by their relationship. He stood upright.
"If that's what you wish for then I'll oblige. As of right now, we're effectively broken up. How does that make you feel?" he asked, sparing her his gaze.
Kima averted her eyes from examining his expression. Instead, her purple retinas went to her palms, intently analyzing every line inhabiting her hands. At first, she contemplated how many edges occupied her palms. As time continued, however, she further debated Ace's question and lost herself amid her thoughts. She remembered what she told Natalia when they first raided the Head's Tower.
'No matter what, in this world, I truly couldn't be happy from the bottom of my heart.'
It was unbelievable that she'd said such a thing before their separation. Even so, she stood up, allowing her arms to follow suit. Turning his head so he'd look down at her, her palms slid against his skin and onto his cheeks. The gaze he'd wished to avert from her was what she now witnessed in full. Regardless of whatever transpired during their chaotic relationship, she knew, just from that look alone, he'd always loved her.
They shared one last embrace. Ace was the first to relinquish her from his hold and slid his jacket from his side of the booth. Throwing it over his shoulder, he waved over to the worker behind the counter.
"I'll take my order to go," he announced.
As he fled to the bar where multiple stools idly stood, his free hand remained in her palm. Without even turning back, he allowed the ends of his fingers to grace the bottom of her palm before he finally fled to the front of the establishment. At long last, they were finally over.
In due time, Ace would collect the food he ordered from the lady behind the counter. Before he dared to exit the diner, he stopped. Directly behind him with her arms by her sides, Kima stood, motionless. He didn't even need to turn to know what kind of face she was making.
"Give me a call when you can. We should catch up sometime, when we're both ready and over one another. I know I'd enjoy that. I just hope you will, too."
With those final words, Ace fled the area, walking down the same path he'd used to arrive. The nearby patrons generated curious murmurs upon watching Kima fall to her knees and sob into her open palms. The ginger, retreating from the vicinity, reflected on the sound of her knees hitting the ground.
'It'll be okay. Just another fork in the road. But it's alright, isn't it? The things we want, the world we live in—the people we are. These are just the types of things we'll have to get accustomed to. Soon enough, we'll have found the strength to keep moving forward. So, it's alright. It'll be okay. You'll find that strength. One day soon… everyone will.'
After the breakup, June heard a knock at her door. She groaned, tumbling out of bed and rolling across the floor toward the distant front door. Seeing as how she couldn't open it from this angle, she reluctantly stood up. The last thing she expected when she opened that door was her brother's saddened face. She sighed and helped him inside, locking the apartment following Ace's entrance.
In the dead of night, Jefferson rested against his living room couch, taking occasional sips from his liquor bottle. Brown eyes averting from the television, he gazed out the window and spotted the ascending Tower's shape momentarily covering the moon. An image of singed corpses flashed through his mind, leading him to sip longingly from the liquor once more.
There was nothing anyone could do. That's the truth everyone believed.
To Be Continued.