Morning arrived without warmth.
The sky above Greyhaven was pale and dull, the kind of morning that felt unfinished.
A man in a black suit and long black coat stood silently before thirteen coffins.
They were arranged in two long rows, each one draped with white flowers. Rain from the previous night had left faint stains along the wood, darkening the grain like old bruises.
Aldric Marune stood at the front. His head was lowered.
For a long moment he did not move.
He had seen death before. Many times. It came with the work. It came with the Bureau.
But never like this. Not Forty three in a single day.
His jaw tightened. His hands slowly curled into fists.
"I'm sorry," Aldric whispered quietly.
The words barely reached beyond him.
"This is my fault."
The apology felt thin even to him.
One of the coffins was smaller than the rest.
Aldric's eyes lingered on it—just for a second.
"Rest in peace."
Aldric's gaze stopped on one coffin longer than the others.
Then he looked away.
Behind him, the air shifted as more people gathered.
Officers stood in silence—men and women in dark uniforms. Some stared at the coffins. Others kept their heads lowered, grief settling heavily in their posture.
Near the back, several civilians stood among them.
The families and friends of the deceased stood among the crowd, their grief heavy and unspoken.
The civilians spoke in trembling voices, filled with fear and unrest.
"I still can't believe this… hands, legs, heads… how is something like this even possible?"
"This is nothing but a brutal, inhuman act."
"If it feels this horrifying just to hear about it… what must it be like for the people who saw it with their own eyes?"
"After seeing something like this… how are we supposed to sleep peacefully in the coming days?"
Quiet murmurs broke through the stillness as someone began crying softly.
Then the cameras started flashing.
Light flickered repeatedly across the courtyard as reporters pushed forward for a better angle.
"Capture him," one cameraman whispered. "That's Aldric Marune—the Investigation Head."
Another reporter muttered under his breath.
"This guy isn't taking responsibility for this many casualties."
"Why haven't they been removed from their positions?"
A third voice cut in sharply.
"Hey. Keep your voice down… or the consequences won't be pleasant."
But the whispers spread anyway. Accusations had a way of traveling quickly.
Aldric heard them all. He didn't react.
Then sudden footsteps broke through the crowd.
An old woman desperately rushed forward.
Her hair was disheveled, her eyes red from crying. She ran straight toward Aldric.
Officers reacted immediately. Two of them grabbed her before she could reach him.
"Ma'am, please—"
"Leave her." Aldric's voice was quiet, but firm.
The officers froze. Then they slowly let go.
The old woman staggered forward. Her hands trembled.
"You're the reason for this," she shouted.
Her voice cracked as grief overwhelmed the anger.
"You're responsible!"
Her finger pointed directly at Aldric.
"Because of your carelessness… my son is dead."
"Then say it!"
Her voice tore through the silence.
"Say you killed them!"
Her hand grabbed his coat—
"Say it to my face!"
His hand moved—just slightly. Like he was about to grab hers. Then he stopped.
Forced it down. Aldric didn't defend himself. He simply listened.
"Why are you still standing here?" she cried. "Don't you feel any shame?"
Her voice broke completely.
The old woman lost all strength in her legs, collapsing to her knees as she cried uncontrollably.
"Give me my son back… please… give him back."
The cameras began flashing again—this time capturing both Aldric Marune and the old woman.
The old woman, unable to contain her grief, spoke through tears.
"You'll only understand our pain when this happens to you… That day will come. You will feel it."
Silence followed.
"...I know." Aldric's voice was low.
Too low.
"...and that's the problem."
His jaw tightened—just enough that the muscles showed. For a moment—he almost spoke.
Then he didn't.
"You don't need to wish that." A pause.
"It's already on its way."
She laughed.
"You stand here apologizing—"
Broken.
"Do you think that changes anything?"
Her voice dropped—
"...or are you just trying to feel better?"
There was nothing Aldric could say that would fix this moment. So he said nothing. After a long pause, he turned and walked away.
Camera flashes struck across Aldric's face as he began to walk away.
Reporters rushed forward immediately, but his team quickly moved in and surrounded him, blocking them off.
No one stepped past the perimeter. No one dared to.
Questions came all at once—loud, relentless, overlapping.
"Is it true that an unidentified individual is responsible for this?"
"Or is the government somehow involved in this incident?"
"They're saying that person is an extraterrestrial—is that true?"
"Is the Earth in danger?"
"How many more are going to die before you admit you lost control?"
One reporter lowered his voice.
"...they're deleting footage."
A pause. "…but some of it still resurfaces."
"In every footage, his face has been obscured."
"This is all a government cover-up."
"How will the government take responsibility for this?"
"Forty-three dead."
"And you're still in charge?"
Aldric never looked at the cameras.
Not once.
The reporters kept pushing, demanding answers—but Aldric and his team said nothing.
The reporters' voices blurred into a ringing noise in Aldric's ears. And it wasn't just the noise…
Inside, Aldric's thoughts were far louder than the chaos around him.
Are we really responsible for this…? Or was it my decision that led to all of this…?
"Captain—!"
He didn't respond.
If I had made that call earlier—
would they still be alive?
The guilt had pulled him so deep into himself that he hadn't even noticed he was being called.
"Captain!"
This time, the voice cut through.
Aldric blinked, snapping back to reality.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
"Captain." A pause. "...you need to see this."
Aldric stopped for a second. Something felt… wrong. Not outside. Somewhere else.
"...What are you?"
"...Forty-three dead…" Aldric's voice lowered.
"...and one returns."
Aldric's eyes darkened.
"...If he knows something—"
"...then he doesn't leave that room."
A pause.
"...until he stops being the only one who knows."
✦ End of Chapter 18 — The Weight of Failure ✦