It's strange, isn't it? After everything that happened—the blood, the betrayal, the destruction—there's this... emptiness. The chaos is gone, but in its place is a kind of silence, the kind that settles deep in your bones. We won, sure. Necro's dead, his plans in ruins. But as the dust settles, the weight of what's left behind is heavier than I expected.
The neighborhood looks different now. All those grand estates, those monuments of power, are nothing more than broken shells. Some of them still smolder, blackened by the fires we started, others just standing in silent defiance against the night, like they know something we don't. But the worst part? The worst part is that I know it's never going to be the same again. There's no going back.
The Blackthorns and the Vortexes—the two families that once dominated this place, ruled it with blood and fear—are fractured. Weak. We've lost so much. The influence we once had is gone, washed away in the wake of our own war. And in the void we left behind, something else is stirring. New players, new forces. They can smell the blood in the water. They know the power is up for grabs.
I stand on what used to be the front steps of the Blackthorn estate, looking at what's left of it. It's hard to even recognize it now. Half the walls are gone, the roof collapsed in on itself like a broken promise. The air smells like smoke, blood, and something else, something deeper. It's a smell I know too well. It's the scent of power—and it's rotten.
Empress stands beside me, her eyes scanning the ruin. Her expression is unreadable, but I know her better than that. She's thinking, plotting, already considering how to rebuild. How to take back what was lost. She doesn't show it, but I can see the fire in her. She's not done yet.
She never is.
"I've never seen it like this," she mutters, more to herself than to me. "Everything... gone."
"We destroyed it," I say, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "We were so focused on power, we didn't realize what we were tearing apart."
She glances at me, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe that's the point. Maybe it was never supposed to last."
"I don't know anymore," I reply. "Maybe we're just too far gone."
Empress doesn't answer. She just turns and walks away, leaving me alone with the ruins. I know what she's thinking. She's thinking about what comes next, about rebuilding the Blackthorn name from the ashes. But I don't know if she can. None of us can. We're all too broken. Too scarred.
I catch a glimpse of Noctis from across the yard. He's standing in front of the remnants of the Vortex estate, staring out at the horizon like he's looking for something. Or maybe he's just looking for a reason to keep going.
I should probably go to him, but I don't. We've had enough of talking. Enough of promises. There's nothing left for us to say. We both know what comes next. And it's not the peace we were hoping for.
Emberfang is standing off to the side, her arms crossed, her gaze hard. I haven't seen her since the ritual ended, but I can't blame her for keeping her distance. She's been through so much. So many wars, so many battles, so many betrayals. And now? Now everything is gone. The Blackthorn empire is in ruins, and the Vortexes... well, they're not in much better shape. I don't know what Emberfang wants, but I can guess it's not the future I'm imagining. She's been too loyal to the Blackthorns to simply walk away, but her loyalty is to the cause, not the family. She doesn't have time for weakness.
Vex, on the other hand, stands a little further away, his face shadowed in the dim light. He's been quiet since the end of the ritual, just watching, observing, waiting. I can't figure him out. He used to be the Vortexs' biggest asset—smart, dangerous, unpredictable. Now, it's like he's lost something. Or maybe he's just waiting for the right moment to pounce. Either way, he's going to play his hand sooner or later.
As I stand there, contemplating the fractured pieces of everything, I realize something. None of us really know what we're doing anymore. We've been so focused on fighting each other, on winning, that we've forgotten how to live in the aftermath. The future is wide open, but it's uncertain. And uncertainty? That's a dangerous thing in a place like this.
And as if on cue, a voice breaks the silence.
"Do you think we've won?" Noctis calls, his voice carrying across the yard. I didn't even realize he was standing there, but now he's moving toward me. "Do you think this is over?"
I don't answer him right away. What is there to say? We've won, but we've lost too. The old power structures are gone, and in their place... well, there's nothing but chaos.
"The only thing we've won," I say slowly, my eyes drifting over the broken landscape, "is a chance to start over. But it's not the kind of victory we were hoping for. None of us are what we used to be."
Noctis nods, a grim smile crossing his lips. "That's the problem with power. It's like a drug. Once you have it, you can't stop chasing it. And when it slips through your fingers... well, you're left with nothing but the wreckage."
He's right. The wreckage is all we have now.
"I don't know what's next for the Blackthorns or the Vortexes," I say, my voice quieter now. "I don't think we ever did. But I know one thing for sure. Whatever comes next... it's going to be worse than what we've already seen."
Noctis turns away, his figure disappearing into the ruins. But I can't look away. I don't know where any of us are headed, but I do know one thing—we're still tied to this place. Tied to this blood. And that's a chain none of us can break.
As I turn to leave, a chill runs down my spine. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm certain of one thing: the darkness isn't gone. It's just waiting for the right moment to rise again. And when it does, we'll all be caught in its grip, whether we're ready or not.
The bloodlines will always be tied to darkness. And that darkness? It never really fades.