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DATE:6th of August, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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Mike and I had taken out several bases of operation belonging to the group with the teleportation watches. They were a step above the Combine gang in sophistication, yet their motives remained murky.
Emily had been invaluable, using the data she'd extracted during her clashes with Deus to map out their operations. She pinpointed areas where they had the greatest presence and others where their defenses were thin. It was a surgical process—strike, dismantle, disappear.
Still, I couldn't understand what this group truly wanted. Their operations didn't align with smuggling or arms dealing, and they weren't monetizing their stolen tech. What was their purpose? An organization couldn't function without funding, yet they seemed almost disinterested in profit.
Out of desperation, we began targeting even their more innocuous assets—like lab farms focused on designing drought-resistant crops. While I didn't think their agricultural goals were inherently bad, it was the only financial link we could find. So, we blew it up.
Mike's frustration grew as our strikes continued to yield no real answers. One day, he came to me holding a massive device.
"This," he declared, dropping it onto the table with a heavy thud, "is a laser cutter. We're using it on that giant aircraft we ran away from last time. It can cut through those reinforced metal doors."
The plan was risky but made sense. That aircraft had been our most direct encounter with their technology and their defenses. If we wanted answers, that was the place to hit.
We suited up, preparing for what was bound to be a bloodbath, and Emily teleported us directly to the hangar bay.
The sight that greeted us confirmed we had made an impact. The agents weren't caught off guard this time. They had fortified their positions, forming barricades around the hangar's beacon. Every one of them wore advanced military-grade suits.
Mike smirked. "Looks like they finally respect us."
I didn't say it out loud, but he was right. Our efforts were hurting them, and they weren't holding back anymore. This was going to be war.
The agents reacted immediately, unleashing a storm of gunfire, but Mike had already deployed a smoke grenade. This wasn't just any smoke—it was infused with a heat-based compound that distorted thermal imaging. Their suits' advanced optics became useless, reducing their visibility to zero.
Mike dove low and teleported behind their barricades, his movements sharp and calculated. Emily mirrored his action, teleporting me to the opposite side.
Mike capitalized on the chaos, firing his assault rifle with precision. His armor-piercing rounds tore through the weaker sections of their suits—the neck and hand padding—while I used my SmartGun to line up perfect headshots. Each slug punched clean through their reinforced helmets.
The vanguard fell in a matter of seconds, and we wasted no time. Mike set a satchel charge on the beacon, and the explosion tore through its core, leaving it a smoldering wreck. We moved quickly, entering a hallway that led deeper into the aircraft.
As we advanced, a turret descended from the ceiling, its barrels spinning to life. Mike didn't flinch, immediately firing a grenade from the launcher attachment on his rifle. The thermite charge ignited on impact, melting through the turret's sensors and barrels in seconds.
He fired up the laser cutter, slicing through the reinforced door it had been guarding. On the other side was a massive troop transport area—but instead of soldiers, it was filled with vehicles. Rows of futuristic tanks and armored cars gleamed under the overhead lights, their designs unlike anything we'd seen.
I was suspicious of it earlier, but this made it clear that we couldn't just kill everyone like we did for the past bases. Surely, with no agents alive and the beacon destroyed it would be expensive to recover a base, but these vehicles alone would be a reason to reclaim it. We had to destroy them, one way or another.
Scattered agents moved to intercept us, but their numbers and positioning worked against them. With Emily's teleportation keeping us mobile, we eliminated them one by one, using the vehicles as cover when necessary.
At the far end of the hangar was a glass-walled office overlooking the chaos below. Emily teleported us directly inside.
The room was a stark contrast to the carnage outside. It was decorated with military precision: a massive table at the center, walls lined with diplomas, and framed maps detailing strategic operations.
Several people were seated at the table, caught off guard by our sudden arrival. We didn't give them a chance to react. Within seconds, they were dead, their bodies slumped over the table. Only one man remained—a decorated officer.
He wore a sharp grey suit trimmed with golden accents, his chest an ostentatious display of badges and medals. The man radiated authority, but he was no fighter.
I stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his head into the polished table. Blood smeared across the wood as I pressed the barrel of my SmartGun against his temple.
The general's demeanor was smug despite the gun pressed to his temple. His importance was clear, but I knew he wouldn't give up anything useful, at least nothing strategic. People like him never did.
I should have killed him on the spot, but curiosity got the better of me. "What's the purpose of your organization?" I asked, though I didn't really expect an honest answer.
He launched into a self-righteous monologue about justice and vision, spouting something about someone named Naomi and how I was sabotaging all her efforts. His tone dripped with disdain, labeling me as devious, destructive, and incapable of understanding their "noble cause."
Honestly, I tuned most of it out. It sounded like the usual zealotry of someone who thought their means justified their ends.
I pulled the trigger, cutting him off mid-sentence. His head burst against the table, leaving a splatter of blood and bone.
Mike found a set of cables near the room's corner, and I hooked Emily up to them. She dove into the system, sifting through encrypted files. Most of it was locked behind layers of security, but she managed to pull out one critical piece of information: the man I'd just killed was a general. More specifically, the general of something called the "Future Division."
"Future Division?" I muttered, the name settling uneasily in my mind. Was this some kind of elaborate joke? Sure, the technology we'd seen so far was far beyond anything in our time, but what exactly did the name imply? Was the general from the future, using his knowledge to build this empire? Or was the entire division from the future?
I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. Speculation would get me nowhere.
Mike fired up the laser cutter again, carving a path out of the room. The corridor beyond stretched into a labyrinth, but the agents we encountered weren't much of a threat.
With Emily linked to my exoskeleton, her reaction time was beyond human comprehension. If an agent tried to teleport behind us, she'd instantly adjust my position to counter their attack. I barely had to think; she handled the timing and alignment with eerie precision.
Still, I wasn't invincible. A few shots managed to hit me, but the professor's flak suit proved invaluable. The bullets embedded themselves in the armor plates, stopping short of causing any real harm.
Mike and I moved as a coordinated unit, cutting down anyone in our way. Whatever this "Future Division" was, they were running out of people—and time.
The hallway leading to the cockpit felt like the final stretch of this mission. Emily's voice rang in my ear, confirming that we were over the Great Sea, the vast expanse dividing the Parting Concord and the Southern Kingdom of Algeris. The one right above the Great desert of Salvia. The enormity of our task wasn't lost on me—this wasn't just a plane; it was a fortress in the sky, powered by technology I couldn't even begin to comprehend.
Mike took the lead, using his brute strength and laser cutter to breach the heavy cockpit door. Inside, we found four personnel who seemed vital to operating this monstrosity—two pilots, a navigator, and someone manning a radio system. Titles didn't matter. They were in our way.
We made short work of them, leaving the cockpit eerily silent except for the hum of machinery and the faint chatter of alarms. Mike held off the remaining personnel, who had rallied in desperation, while I plugged Emily into the plane's systems.
The cockpit was a maze of buttons, levers, and screens—far more complex than any aircraft I'd ever seen. It was locked on autopilot, and I had no clue how to disable it manually. Emily took the reins, her voice tense as she informed me that Deus was fighting her every move.
"Keep them off me," I told Mike before heading down to help.
I have no idea how the "fight" between Emily and deus looked on a virtual level, but we certainly didn't struggle.
The agents were growing more frantic. Their movements were erratic, their shots poorly aimed as they tried to push toward the cockpit.
They couldn't use explosives for fear of damaging the plane's control systems, leaving them vulnerable.
I almost felt bad, but at the end of the day they could have just ran away to another beacon. They chose to lose their lives fighting me out of their out volition.
They weren't ordinary soldiers; they fought with a resolve that was almost admirable. Most people would've fled or surrendered by now, but these agents seemed willing to die for their cause.
Emily's voice crackled in my ear. "I've got control. Brace yourself."
Suddenly, the plane pitched downward sharply, slamming me against the ceiling. My vision blurred as gravity fought to pin me in place. Mike vanished—teleported by Emily, no doubt—but I stayed, gripping the walls and forcing myself forward.
"Emily, I'm not leaving you on this plane," I growled, clawing my way back to the cockpit.
"I know," she replied, her tone calm despite the chaos. "I'll give you the signal. Stay ready."
The pressure in the cockpit was suffocating as the plane hurtled toward the ocean below. Emily counted down.
"Three... two... one... now!"
I yanked the wires connecting her to the plane, severing her link. The plane's nose flattened out briefly before plunging into the water. The impact was deafening, and I felt the entire structure shudder violently as it was swallowed by the ocean.
I scrambled for cover, wedging myself against the wall near the cockpit door to avoid being seen by any stragglers. Emily's teleportation whisked me away moments later, leaving the wreckage behind as the sea claimed the mobile base.
The damp air of the back alley felt suffocating after the chaos we'd just escaped. Mike gave me a quick hand signal, urging me to run for the car parked a few blocks away. We moved fast, sticking to the shadows and dodging the occasional streetlamp. As planned, we'd teleported far from any known base and needed the car to erase our "spatial signature". This way they wouldn't be able to follow us like last time. Emily's brilliance ensured this strategy worked—at least for now.
Once inside, I removed my mask and sank into the passenger seat. My muscles ached, and the adrenaline in my veins was starting to wear off. The weight of everything we'd done began to settle in.
"Emily," I muttered, leaning back and letting my head rest against the seat, "how was it, going up against Deus again?"
Her voice, calm but with a hint of satisfaction, crackled through the phone. "He wasn't as terrifying this time. In the past, his superior algorithms and an army of bots overwhelmed me. He probably even had other hackers backing him up. But now… now I'm better. Faster isn't the right word—I've adapted."
Her tone grew sharper, more confident. "There are only so many algorithms, only so many encryption techniques, even for someone like him. He's running out of tricks."
I smirked, wiping the sweat from my face. "He didn't seem to take us seriously until now, though. Destroying those smaller bases—he barely lifted a finger to stop us. But today… Today, we hit a nerve."
Emily's voice softened. "He was desperate, Aionis. Losing that plane meant more to him than anything we've done so far. He threw everything he had at me, and I still won." I could tell she was proud of herself, but even then, I was a bit worried. If the greatest hacker wasn't enough, then who could limit her in the future? Is this the potential Mundi spoke of? The potential these agents fought so hard to take?
"Good," I said coldly, staring out at the empty streets as Mike navigated the car through the maze of alleys. "This is what they deserve."
Emily didn't respond, but the silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like an acknowledgment—a quiet agreement that we were finally turning the tide in this battle.
The car hummed softly as we disappeared into the night, leaving the wreckage of their precious mobile fortress behind. For the first time in a long while, it felt like we had the upper hand. I wasn't just catching up.
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DATE:7th of August, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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The next day, while I was talking with Emily at a cafe, her Voice gets scrambled Suddenly. Into the earpiece I hear the hologram, Naomi Sayahara.
"Zaun… What a nuisance you've become." Why does everyone who knows of my past as a mercenary refer to me as that name? I am not named Zaun, I want to specify that it was just the name I used when I joined the Balmundi Syndicate.
The sudden shift in Emily's voice startled me. It wasn't her usual calm tone—it was scrambled, distorted, then replaced by a clear, cold voice. The name was unfamiliar, but the contempt was unmistakable.
"I take it you're Naomi Sayahara," I said mockingly, stirring my coffee as if she weren't interrupting my moment of peace. "What, you're desperate enough to talk to me directly now?"
Naomi: "Desperation? Hardly. I'm here to offer you an end to this meaningless conflict. Deus has sent you coordinates. I'll be waiting there for you. It's time we settle this."
"Settle this?" I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "You're sounding a lot like someone who's lost control of their little empire. What happened, Naomi? Scared I'll ruin your big plans?"
Naomi: "Scared? No, Aionis. I'm simply tired of watching you tear down humanity's future with your senseless destruction. You don't understand what you're doing."
She paused, her tone colder now. "The dead should stay silent and watch. That's your place in this world."
I chuckled, letting her words sink in. "That's funny. For someone preaching about the future, you're awfully quick to cling to the past. Face it, Naomi, all your might and tech couldn't stop this simple 'ghoul.' Maybe it's you who doesn't belong in this future you're dreaming of. Isn't that pathetic?"
Her silence was brief, but it spoke volumes.
"You insolent pest… If you truly believe that, come and face me. Prove it."
Before I could respond, the line went dead. Emily's voice returned instantly, her tone flustered:"That was reckless! She's trying to lure you into a trap. We can find her by hitting more bases instead."
I shook my head. "She'll be at the location she sent. If I don't take the chance now, she'll retreat somewhere without a beacon, and we'll lose our lead."
Emily hesitated, then added, "This could cost us everything. You don't need to do this now. Secundo Manus is closer to resurrecting UltraMan, and that's the real threat."
"Which is exactly why I'm doing this now," I snapped. "I don't have time for both of them. This ends here."
I called Mike, but there was no answer. Irritated, I ignored Emily's protests and ordered her to teleport me back to my hotel. After gathering my equipment and injecting the stimulant I'd prepared, I gave the final command.
"Send me to the coordinates."
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The world shifted, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in a massive hall. The air was thick with tension, and the sound of heavy boots on metal echoed through the space.
Emily's voice shouted in my ear. "Incoming! Dodge now!"
I breathed in deeply, time slowing to a crawl. Rows of soldiers in full-body suits moved in slow motion, their massive frames hulking toward me. Bullets zipped past, narrowly missing as Emily guided my movements.
Raising the SmartGun, I aimed for the head of the nearest soldier and fired. The slug hit squarely but only dented the reinforced helmet.
"Tch." I reached into my pack, pulled out a satchel charge, and threw it into the air. As I dashed past the soldiers, I felt the wave of heat from the explosion before I exhaled. Time snapped back to normal, and I didn't look back to confirm the results.
The hallway was crawling with agents, though their armor wasn't nearly as strong as the vanguards. My slugs tore through their helmets with ease, leaving a trail of bodies in my wake.
As I pressed forward, a thought crept into my mind.
Where were the elites?
The ones with the advanced implants, the ones who could match me in skill and tactics. Ever since my kidnapping, I didn't meet anyone new.
Had they retreated? Were they regrouping elsewhere?
Or worse—were they planning something I hadn't anticipated?
I moved through the base, clearing out agents methodically as Emily worked to pinpoint Naomi's location. Each shot counted—I didn't have the luxury of wasting bullets on every grunt in this labyrinth. The further I went, the more certain I became that dragging this out would be pointless. Emily's guidance was my only way to cut through the noise.
Finally, her voice chimed in my earpiece. She'd found Naomi. Without hesitation, I activated the teleport, reappearing in what looked like a server room.
The hum of machinery filled the air, but the centerpiece was what caught my attention. In the middle of the room stood a massive vat, filled with a strange, viscous liquid. Suspended inside was Naomi's naked body, a grotesque sight. Her form was incomplete—parts of her flickered in and out of existence, as if her very being was at war with reality itself.
Before I could react further, her hologram materialized beside the vat. Her image was pristine, a stark contrast to the broken figure floating inside. Her voice, cold and sharp, echoed in the room.
Naomi: "Do you understand now? This is why I needed Emily. With all my resources, all my technology, I could never fix what happened to me—the experiment that shattered my existence fifteen years ago."
She gestured to the vat, her expression a twisted mix of anger and pain.
Naomi: "By sheer will, I forced my fragmented self back together. I created this organization to find a way to restore what I lost, to make myself whole again."
Her words were filled with conviction, but I wasn't interested in her sob story. I couldn't help myself—I started laughing.
"That's it?" I said, mocking her. "You've built this entire empire, bent the world to your will, all so you could fix your pathetic mistake? I'm standing here, more alive than you've ever been in the past fifteen years."
Her expression faltered, confusion flashing across her face.
I pressed on, my voice dripping with disdain. "And Emily? She's more human than you'll ever be. You? You're just a glitch, Naomi. A relic trying to crawl back into relevance."
Her holographic form flickered violently, the veins in her flickering image standing out as if she were about to burst.
Naomi: "You… You don't understand! This is about justice! About stopping the senseless chaos abilities bring—"
I tuned her out, her self-righteous speech little more than noise. I smirked, folding my arms as her voice rose in frustration, struggling to regain control of the room.
She was desperate, but I couldn't care less. Her motives, her pain, her justifications—they meant nothing to me. She was a ghost clinging to a dream, and I had no patience for the dead.
Her vain efforts were just so amusing, I couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't a chuckle or a quiet snicker—it was full-bodied, cruel laughter that echoed through the sterile room. My laughter grew louder, cutting through her rambling speech until she went silent.
I caught my breath, shaking my head in mock pity. "You really don't know when to quit, do you? The dead should only observe," I said, throwing her own words back at her from our little cafe conversation. My tone was dripping with derision. "But if you're going to cling to this sad excuse of a life, I might as well put you out of your misery."
Her protests were immediate, desperate, and meaningless. There were so many things I could have asked her—questions about the origins of heroes, the tangled conspiracy Dumas hinted at, or even her cryptic claims about me being dead. But the truth was, I knew she either didn't have the answers or wouldn't share them. Her existence, much like her words, felt hollow.
I raised my gun, ignoring her holographic pleading, and aimed at the vat. With a single pull of the trigger, the slug sailed through the air, piercing her projection as though it were nothing but mist.
"What were you hoping for, Naomi?" I sneered, watching her flicker. "To stop a bullet with light?"
The slug didn't shatter the vat entirely—it wasn't that easy. The glass was reinforced, deflecting most of the force, but a small, jagged crack formed where the bullet hit. And that was enough.
Her hologram began to distort violently, twisting in unnatural ways as her real body convulsed within the tank. The disturbance caused a chain reaction, and the vat hissed and groaned before opening with a sickening rush of liquid.
She fell out, still naked, still glitching in and out of existence. Black sparks erupted from her like jagged fissures of electricity, a grotesque spectacle of instability. Her very presence seemed to fight against the natural order of reality, and it was painful to witness. Honestly, I could hardly decide if her greatest crime was the damage she'd done or the sheer assault her appearance inflicted on my eyes. It certainly hurt me more than what her agents did.
"You're hideous," I muttered, grimacing.
Her head snapped up, and her voice, now laced with an eerie echo, reverberated around the room.
"You insolent wretch! I will erase you from existence itself!"
I tilted my head, unimpressed. *"If you could do that, Naomi, you would've done it already. Or were you saving it for dramatic effect?"*
Before I could get another jab in, my vision blurred for an instant. When my eyes refocused, she was there—right in front of me. Her hand, flickering and sparking, plunged through my chest with terrifying precision, slicing through the reinforced metal plate like it was paper.
I gasped, blood filling my mouth as pain erupted in waves. Naomi's face twisted into a victorious sneer.
"This is where you fall."
Her laughter, cruel and triumphant, echoed in my ears as my vision began to fade.
Taking her hand out of my chest as I collapsed to the floor, Naomi flicked the blood off her flickering arm with a jagged, unnatural motion. Her voice dripped with disdain as she leaned over me.
Naomi: "I wanted to erase you earlier, but something about you… it's different. Strange."
Before I could process her words, her expression twisted into a grimace of pain. Her triumphant smirk vanished as she clutched her head, screaming.
Naomi: "No! You can't—No! No!"
Her voice echoed through the server room, frantic and pained, as black sparks erupted from her entire body. Deep red scars formed on her face, trailing like fiery cracks in glass. She writhed in agony, her screams growing louder and more desperate.
And then I blinked.
When my eyes opened, I wasn't in the server room anymore. I was back at the cafe, sitting at the same table where Naomi had first called me to discuss her twisted ultimatum. The bustling sounds of the city hummed around me as if nothing had happened.
Restless, I pushed myself up and walked out of the cafe, my head spinning. My chest felt hollow, and my thoughts raced. I didn't make it more than a few dozen meters before I bumped into someone.
I didn't bother to look—my mind was too clouded—but the person clung to my chest, stopping me in my tracks.
Alice's Voice: "I… I'm sorry."
I froze, my eyes darting down to see Alice. Her hands clutched my shirt tightly, and her eyes glistened with tears.
I tried to walk away, muttering something dismissive, but she refused to let go. Her voice cracked as she spoke. "Please. Just—listen to me. I'm sorry for what I said. I want to help you."
Her words knocked me off balance—physically and mentally. I staggered slightly, barely catching myself.
"Help me?" I muttered, confused and skeptical. "What are you talking about?"
Alice's tears spilled over as she nodded fervently. "I was wrong about you. I judged you without knowing everything. Please, just talk to me."
Reluctantly, I agreed. Together, we returned to the cafe I had just left—ironically, the very place I was trying to escape. I stifled the urge to groan at the absurdity of it all and sat across from her.
Alice began to pour her heart out, speaking about how she misjudged me.
Alice: "You're still fighting. Still standing against the darkness, even though you're alone. I thought… I thought you were lost, but now I see I was wrong."
I didn't respond. What could I say? The memory of killing her mentor lingered like a shadow between us. Her voice trembled as she continued.
"I thought about what you've been through. Your background, your pain—it must've forced you into that situation."
Her assumption was wrong, but I wasn't about to correct her.
Her words circled in my mind, and something clicked. I leaned forward, cutting into her monologue.
"If you want to help, there's something you can do. One of your father's old associates, Naomi—she's become a serious threat. I need your help to stop her."
I explained the situation in broad strokes: Naomi's organization, her experiments, and the confrontation I had with her. Alice listened intently, her expression hardening with resolve.
"I'll help. Whatever it takes."
I nodded and grabbed her arm. With Emily's guidance, I teleported us directly into the server room with Naomi's vat.
The hologram was already there, standing by the vat as if it had been waiting for us. Naomi's translucent form flickered as her cold eyes turned to me.
"So, you've brought a guest. How quaint." She paused, her gaze narrowing. "Time has been… rewound, hasn't it? It wasn't me who did it..."
I tensed at her words, but Alice stepped forward, her voice calm but firm.
"Naomi. I remember you. You worked with my father at the lab. What happened to you? What went wrong?"
The hologram hesitated, its expression shifting. For a moment, it almost seemed… human.
"Ambition." She stopped herself, her voice turning bitter. "No. I was betrayed-"
Yeah, no. I wasn't going to let her monologue again.
I gave Alice a quick hand signal, stopping her from making any sudden moves. We had to act before Naomi's vat opened up.
Alice caught on immediately, extending her hand and manipulating the gravity around the vat. The massive glass structure groaned and bent as she forced it downward, causing cracks to spiderweb across the surface. The liquid inside spilled out in heavy waves, pooling on the floor.
Naomi's hologram screamed in pain, her fragmented form glitching violently. She teleported erratically, flickering in and out of reality, her attacks aimed wildly at Alice. I took a sharp breath, slowing time once more.
Her chaotic movements became predictable. I lunged forward, my arm cutting through the distorted space where her chest was barely holding together. My hand clenched, crushing the fragments of her flickering heart.
Her scream tore through the room, a deafening sound that reverberated in my skull. Her form dissolved, a black haze evaporating into nothingness. My ears rang in the aftermath.
Alice dropped to her knees, visibly shaken, tears streaming down her face. As I approached, she grabbed me, wrapping her arms tightly around my torso and crying into my chest.
Even as she sobbed, we left together. She clung to me as we drove back to her home, her grip firm, as if afraid I might vanish.
By the time we reached the **Balßh Tower**, her apartment building, and stepped into the elevator, her tension had turned into something else. Her lips found mine, and we kissed intensely, barely waiting until we got inside her apartment.
The moment we crossed the threshold, she tore at my equipment, pulling me into her cluttered living space, littered with takeout boxes and trash bags. It didn't matter. She pushed me onto her bed, undressing both of us with urgency.
We lost ourselves in each other, her passion overwhelming and raw. I noticed the toys scattered across her desk, wondering briefly if this had become her escape. Did she crave this because of me? Had I broken something in her when I took her virginity? They do say these kinds of girls are the craziest.
Hours passed in her embrace, her tension slowly melting away. Even after we were done, she stayed curled up against me, her breathing steadying as she regained composure.
"What's going on at the agency?"
She rested her head on my chest, her voice soft and tired. "The Combine gang is fully working with Secundo Manus now. It's bad."
I frowned, mulling over the implications. "We need to start taking down the Combine first. Cut off their resources."
Alice shook her head gently. "They're decentralized. It'll be harder than you think. Let's leave this for tomorrow, okay?"
Her arms tightened around me, and I sighed, letting it go for now.
For the first time in weeks, I felt a semblance of peace as we drifted off to sleep together.-*-*-*-*-*