Chapter 38: Echoes of the Past.

The rain whipped across the windows in ribbons, very much like the heavens had been crying. Liam cradled a glass of Ardbeg in his hands while staring out into the night full of storms. The amber liquid burned its way down his throat but did little to dull the aching emptiness within him. Six months had passed since that fateful day back at the Archonic Collective compound—six months of hunting down the last remnants of their poison cabal with ruthlessly efficient strokes, six months of sleepless nights filled with regret that cut deeper than any blade. They had come out victorious, and he reminded himself of that every day. Chloe's brave sacrifice had cut the head off the serpent in time to prevent its vision of a new, twisted humanity from being born into the world. Peace and anonymity should have followed, a well-deserved respite from the trials they had endured. But Liam found no comfort, only hollowness, where once the vibrant spirit of Chloe had resided. Her absence was a wound