The shockwaves subsided, leaving a ringing silence in Liora's home.
"What was that?" Liora asked, her voice tight as she stared out the window.
"An earthquake? Maybe," Ava replied, though her voice lacked conviction. Suddenly, a cold, jagged sensation seized her chest. She pressed a hand over her heart, her breath hitching.
Liora turned, noticing the sudden pallor of her friend's face. "Ava? Is everything alright?"
Ava forced a small, fragile smile. "Yes. I'm fine."
Liora nodded slowly, turning back to her laptop, but Ava's mind was racing. This weight in my chest... what is it? She looked at her trembling hands. Those shockwaves weren't natural. It felt like a collision of titans. Did something happen to Ron?
"Ava, help me with the—" Liora started, but Ava was already staring into the distance, lost in a growing sense of doom.
At the edge of the fractured battlefield, Sami stumbled through the settling dust. He was breathless, his lungs burning as he reached the crater where William had finally been brought down.
He stopped. His knees gave out, hitting the scorched earth with a dull thud.
Just feet away, a human heart lay still on the dirt. A step beyond it was Ron. He lay facedown, his back pierced through, his eyes open and fixed on nothing. A few paces further, Rad lay slumped in the debris. Despite the blood, a faint, peaceful smile remained etched on Rad's face.
Sami's vision blurred as the first sob broke through his throat.
In his darkened office, Carter was hunched over his monitor. He had been digging deeper into Emma's case, but the recent tremors had crashed his system.
"Thankfully, I hit save," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
His phone buzzed on the desk. A message from Sami. Carter swiped it open, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. He stared at the screen, the words refusing to make sense.
Ron and Rad are dead.
Did I misread that? Carter's breath hitched. He read it again. And again. The reality crashed down like a physical weight.
"So... they're really gone."
For the first time since he lost Lia, tears escaped. He had spent so long building a shell, convinced he had finally become unbreakable. But as the first tear fell from his left eye, his composure shattered.
"I wish I could have saved you," he whispered, his voice cracking into a raw, hollow sound. "My friends... I'm so sorry."
Across town in a sterile hospital room, Finian sat staring at the ceiling. His phone vibrated on the bedside table. He reached for it with a heavy sigh. Carter? What now? I just want to be left alone.
He opened the text. The phone slipped from his numb fingers, clattering onto the linoleum floor.
No. Not Ron. Not Rad too.
The grief hit him with the force of a physical blow. First his brother, Locki—and now the men who were as close as brothers. Finian stood on shaky legs, locked the door to his room, and finally let go. He collapsed to his knees, punching the floor in a silent, agonizing rhythm as the tears took over.
Night fell over Hero Town like a heavy shroud.
Ava reached her front door, her mind flickering back to the morning—to the feeling of Ron's lips against her forehead. She took a deep breath, her hand shaking as she turned the key. The house was deathly silent.
"Ron?" she called out. No answer.
She went to the bedroom to freshen up, but the unease in her heart had grown into a roar. She paced the room before heading to the kitchen. I'll make dinner. He'll be hungry when he gets back. Nothing happened. He's fine.
As she passed through the living room, a flash of white caught her eye. A note was tucked under their wedding photo. Ava picked it up, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Ava,
Thanks for always being by my side. I don't know why I'm writing this, but I have a feeling about today. Thank you for taking care of a guy as lost and broken as me. I love you and Dream equally. Take care of yourself. Forgive me if I wronged you ever.
— Ron.
The paper fluttered in her hand. "Why would he write this?"
She fumbled for her phone and dialed his number. Unreachable. She immediately called Carter.
"Hello? Ava?" Carter's voice was a low, jagged rasp.
"Brother... is Ron with you? He isn't home yet," she said, her voice trembling.
"Ava... I'm so sorry."
"Tell me he's alright, Carter. Just tell me he's injured. If his bones are broken, he can heal. We can fix that!"
"Ava," Carter's voice broke completely. "I couldn't save him. Ron is dead."
The phone slipped from her hand, the screen spider-webbing as it hit the floor.
The Next Day, a grey sky wept over the cemetery.
The funeral was not too crowded, many black umbrellas could be seen. Sami, Finian, Akira, Brian, and Rocky stood like statues in the downpour. Ava collapsed by the grave, her grief so profound that Liora and Carter eventually had to physically lead her away.
Once the mourners had cleared, a lone figure remained. Dressed in a sharp black suit under a dark umbrella, the man stepped toward the fresh mounds of earth.
"Ron, my best friend," the man murmured. "I will never forget you. Not as long as I draw breath." He turned his gaze to the second grave. "And Rad... thank you for looking after him. Your mother would be proud. You died protecting this town and the people you loved."
The man exhaled a cloud of mist into the cold air, turned, and vanished into the rain.
Elsewhere
Deep within the Foster headquarters, the air was different. There was no mourning here.
Rio stood in a dimly lit monitoring room, his expression unreadable as he watched the battlefield data on a massive screen. Ron is dead, he thought. The pieces are moving.
The door hissed open. The other Heads filed in, taking their high-backed seats.
"I have news," Rio announced, his voice cool.
"We are listening, Second Head," Eirene replied.
"Ron has been eliminated."
The room erupted. Cheers and laughter echoed off the cold walls. "A celebration is in order!" someone shouted.
Ross entered the room, silencing the commotion with a raised hand. "Today is a monumental day for Foster. One of our primary threats is gone. Though we lost William in the process, everything has unfolded exactly as the Second Head predicted."
"I never thought we'd actually see the day," a blonde-haired woman remarked.
"Regardless," Ross continued, "we must fill the void. Two new Heads will now take their places at the table."
The heavy doors at the end of the hall swung open. A man and a woman stepped into the light.
"Presenting our Eighth Head: Zythera." Ross gestured toward the woman. She stepped forward, her blonde hair shimmering under the spotlights, her striking, vibrant blue eyes scanning the room with a piercing intensity.
She took her seat in silence.
"And this gentleman is Draven, the Ninth Head of Foster."
Draven offered a shallow bow. "I appreciate the opportunity to serve."
Ross looked around the table, a thin smile playing on his lips. "I trust we will work with perfect synchronicity moving forward. Dismissed."