Even as Soren asked Slacker, his eyes begged the man not to say it.

They really begged.

Finally, summoning the courage, Slacker answered.

His hands trembled as he cradled Ratler's lifeless body. Blood soaked into his coat, warm against skin already numb from grief.

"Yes," he said quietly.

The word was soft. Almost gentle.

"Yes… I would."

Soren's heart broke at those words.

Vinegar's sobbing hitched.

Slacker lifted his head, eyes red and hollow, yet terrifyingly sincere.

"I would kill her," he continued. "Not because I want to. Not because I hate her. But because I've already crossed that line."

His fingers clenched.

"I have already decided whose lives matter more."

Soren closed his eyes.

That was it.

That was the answer he had been waiting for.

Slacker laughed weakly through tears. "You see? That's the cruel joke of it all. There is no good choice anymore. Only… priorities."

He looked at Vinegar then.

For the first time, he did not look at her like a daughter.

He looked at her like a resource.

Vinegar saw it.

And whatever had still been holding her together—whatever fragile illusion of love she had been clinging to—collapsed.

A broken sound tore out of her throat. She wrapped her arms around herself, nails digging into skin, rocking as if trying to disappear.

"I… I was good," she whispered. "I tried to be good…"

Slacker shut his eyes.

"I know."

Soren opened his.

Slowly.

Calmly.

"This is where we differ," he said.

Slacker looked up.

"You chose to live with the sin," Soren continued. "To carry it and to normalize it. To turn love into a transaction."

His voice trembled—but his hands did not.

"I choose to end it."

Slacker's breath hitched.

"So... you'll doom them," he whispered. "You'll kill... three... innocent people with me."

Soren nodded.

"Just you."

The simplicity of the answer crushed the air from the cave.

Soren stepped forward.

Vinegar screamed.

"STOP—PLEASE—SOREN—PLEASE—"

Her voice cracked, raw and desperate, clawing at him from behind.

But Soren did not turn.

Not because he didn't hear her.

But because if he did, he would stop.

He would break.

Slacker looked into Soren's eyes and finally understood.

This was not rage, and it was not vengeance.

This was choice.

"I never wanted this," Slacker said, tears streaming freely now.

"Neither did I," Soren replied. He closed his eyes. A quick memory of Slacker teaching him Blackfield came to mind.

A good memory.

Then Soren's hand moved. One look, and he already knew the simplest, fastest way to end the man.

Gravity pulled inward, preventing his heart from morphing back into lungs.

Slacker did not scream.

He simply exhaled.

And fell.

The cave went silent. Three men were dead.

No more shadows.

No more clones.

No more breath.

Only the crackle of dying flames on a corpse and the sound of a girl sobbing so hard it hurt to hear.

Soren stood there, unmoving.

Blood soaked his coat.

His hands shook—just once.

Then he turned.

Vinegar looked at him as if she were seeing a stranger.

A monster.

A savior.

A murderer.

A boy who loved her enough to burn the world.

No... to burn her world.

She opened her mouth to speak—

And fainted.

Soren caught her before she hit the ground.

He held her tightly, as if she might disappear.

As if the universe might take her back for what he had done.

"I chose you," he whispered into her ear.

But the cave did not answer.

And neither did she.

The moment was tragic, but with the death of such capable Soulbound warriors, Shades had become wounded.

And Chronovore sensed the meal.

It proceeded from Soren's person.

Hunger was its nature. Devour was its will.

...

Vinegar eventually woke up.

No.

The moment her eyes opened, she shot up like a stressed spring.

"NOOOO!!!" She called, sitting upright.

The campfire crackled not so far from her.

However, at the entrance of the cave, staring into the white world, at the edge of the wailing wind, was a figure.

She recognised him the moment she saw his outline.

"Soren... no." She turned about. "Handler. Slacker. Ratler."

She hoped that everything that happened was nothing but a dream.

But seeing his arm, dried of blood, the slight injuries on his skin here and there, and the still smell of burnt flesh in the cave—she knew that it wasn't.

"You killed them..." she whispered at first.

"YOU MURDERER!!!"

Soren did not turn to her.

He had a million things to say, but the words would not leave his tongue.

Hell, he could not even turn and defend himself.

Yes. What he had done was murder. There was no easier way to describe it.

For a greater good, he told himself.

But it did not feel that way.

Soren had even thought of merely crippling them.

But he knew that would have been a bigger curse on their already heavy burden.

After a while of saying nothing, Soren finally summoned the courage to turn.

He took a step towards her.

Vinegar flinched. Backing away.

He took another step, and she pulled back. He understood.

Backing away.

Her tears had resumed.

He looked away.

Then she spoke. "I. HATE. YOU."

"I know." He muttered. "But... I had to choose."

Then she stood to her feet, shaky at first, but she did. "Well..." she sniffed. "I don't. I don't choose you."

Soren broke further. But his expression remained stoic.

When he made up his mind to kill them, he had a feeling this might happen.

But he still did.

~Silence.

The space between them was barely five meters.

And yet it wasn't.

They were in different worlds.

He turned towards the howling wind and the snow.

As he did, her screams came from behind.

"You took everything from me... and called it love...

Soren... No," she shook her head. "Whitey... I'll get you for this. I'll kill you. I'll get my revenge..."

Her words echoed behind him, slowly drowned by the winter.

As he moved, a figure appeared before him.

Scarvguard.

"You saved her from organ traffickers, and she hates you for it.

It's not a good idea to... keep her alive."

Soren paused.

"I just killed three men for her. Don't be the fourth."

He continued walking. Like he had not just threatened a man many times his strength and rank.

Scarvguard paused.

This would have been grounds for punishment, but he understood. Soren was filled with so much emotion right now.

He sighed.

"As you requested, Boyed is waiting for you at the prison," Scarvguard stated. "You have questions, right?... Waterfell."

(Author's note: Two more chapters and the next volume begins. If you think the first volume deserves it, please send gifts. I'll greatly appreciate it. A Super gift, even better.)

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