🌒 Chapter 18– Shadows of What Remains
The wind had risen, carrying with it the ashes of the past.
In the silent room, two generations faced each other, separated by years of resentment and a single heartbeat.
Bill Montclair, his face drawn and weary, stared at Ezekiel, his grandson.
Opposite him, the young man held the hand of his mother, unconscious, pale as death.
Their eyes met—and in that fleeting instant, everything seemed to freeze.
The old man broke the silence, his voice trembling, rough like a dying fire.
— "Take her with you… But remember, Ezekiel… if you don't kill me today, you will regret it tomorrow."
Ezekiel clenched his jaw, a shadow passing across his eyes.
— "I shouldn't be the one worried, grandfather. The worst is still to come."
Bill managed a sad, almost paternal smile.
— "Then we will meet again," he said slowly. "And that day… I will kill you."
Ezekiel nodded, his eyes burning with restrained rage.
— "Stay alive until that day. That's all I ask of you."
He turned, adjusting the coat around his mother's shoulders.
Before leaving, he paused, his voice heavy with bitter truth:
— "I do not forgive you, Bill. But… it's for her that I spare your life.
Because, despite everything, you were the one who saved her."
He stepped out, carrying with him the little light that remained.
Bill remained alone, tears streaming before he even realized it.
His heart, which he thought had long since petrified, bled again.
— "My daughter…" he whispered.
His words dissolved into the empty air, swallowed by the sound of the wind.
---
At Éloïse and Annie Torne's Place
Annie's apartment smelled of tea and melancholy.
Seated in a faded velvet armchair, the woman with piercing eyes watched Éloïse with a calm, almost maternal gaze.
A thick silence settled.
— "So you know," Éloïse said quietly, "what happened. Why Ezekiel… did all this."
Annie gave a bitter smile.
— "You think you know Ezekiel? You know only a shadow.
But if you want to understand his plan, his heart, his reasons… you should look for Enzo. My son."
— "Enzo Torne… is your son?" Éloïse asked, shocked.
— "Yes. They've been inseparable since his return.
If there's anyone who knows his intentions, it's him."
Éloïse shook her head, troubled.
— "But… Ezekiel is dead. In the fire caused by Ariel."
Annie rose slowly, her gaze glinting with a disturbing clarity.
— "No, my dear. Ezekiel is very much alive.
And he continues what he started."
A shiver ran down Éloïse's spine.
Each word Annie spoke seemed to echo like a prophecy.
---
At the Montclair Residence
Night had fallen when Bill pushed open the door.
Everything was silent—too silent.
Even the walls seemed to weep.
Ken, still trapped in Ayato's body, stood in the living room, his face marked by exhaustion and guilt.
Beside him, Yuri watched with a hard but weary gaze.
And Hana, prostrate and trembling in a corner, could not speak.
Bill understood without being told.
The emptiness in their eyes said it all.
— "Ariel…" he whispered.
Ken lowered his head.
— "He's… he's dead. I… I shot him. I didn't know that…"
Bill staggered, clutching the back of a chair.
A burning sensation rose in his throat, a fire he hadn't felt in years.
— "My grandson…" he muttered.
He sank to his knees, fists pressing into the floor.
The Montclair patriarch wept at last.
Not for power, not for vengeance—but for loss.
For his daughter, his blood, and everything he had tried to protect.
Yuri stepped forward to help, but Bill waved him away.
— "It's me… it's all my fault.
Ezekiel… this hatred… I created it."
He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, tears blinding his gaze.
— "Ezekiel… I swear… I will never let anything happen to you again."
A heavy silence fell over the Montclair house.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, respecting the old man's pain.
---
Hana's Scene
The next night, Hana woke with a start.
Her hands trembled, slick with sweat.
In her dream, she had seen the barrel of the gun pointed at her, Ariel's gaze, then the shot.
And the blood.
Always the blood.
She rose, legs unsteady, and went down to the living room.
Ken slept on the sofa, his head buried in his arms.
A lamp flickered, casting a warm, golden glow on his face.
Hana approached hesitantly.
She sat across from him, tears streaming.
— "Why… why did you shoot, Ken?" she whispered.
"You could have… you could have waited…"
Ken slowly opened his eyes.
He looked at her, silent, unable to speak.
Guilt knotted his throat.
— "He wanted to kill you, Hana," he finally said, voice breaking.
"I had no choice."
— "You don't know!" she suddenly shouted.
"You don't know, big brother!
You always say you want to protect others, but every time, you destroy everything! Ariel—Ken, your friend is dead because of you, and now me! What do you have left?"
The silence answered her.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Ken, devastated, rose slowly.
He knelt before her, taking her trembling hands in his own.
— "All I have left is you, Hana.
And I never want to lose you again."
She looked away, torn between hatred and pity.
— "Then promise me… never… to shoot again without being sure.
Promise me!"
Ken nodded, unable to speak.
A tear ran down his cheek.
Hana rose, unsteady.
Before leaving the room, she whispered, her voice soft, almost broken:
— "If you really want to protect me… first, learn not to be afraid."
As she disappeared into the corridor, Ken felt his chest tighten.
His fists trembled, no longer with rage, but with helplessness.
This time, the scars he carried were invisible.
---
Two Days Later
The cemetery lay shrouded in a gray mist.
Ariel rested at last, beneath a sky devoid of color.
No one spoke. Only the crows accompanied the ceremony.
The next day, the city seemed to take a breath—a fragile breath, before the storm.
Yuri and Ken, still in Ayato's body, walked slowly along a deserted alley.
Hansi followed, carrying a bag, speaking of trivial things to break the silence.
— "Do you think it will be alright?" she asked.
Yuri shrugged.
— "I don't know. Nothing is certain now."
Their footsteps echoed on the wet cobblestones.
A raindrop fell. Then another.
The sky darkened abruptly.
Ken shivered.
— "Wait… do you hear that?"
A sharp crack. Then another.
A windowpane shattered.
Bullets whistled through the alley.
— "Take cover!" yelled Yuri.
They dove behind a car. Chaos erupted around them—gunfire, screams, heavy footsteps in the mud.
Ken lifted his head just enough to see three armed silhouettes advancing through the alley.
Their faces hidden by black masks.
— "Shit…"
Yuri fired a burst.
One man fell. Two others scattered.
Hansi, behind them, tried to run toward the warehouse door.
A sharp crack.
Then a scream.
Ken turned, horrified.
— "Hansi!"
The young woman collapsed to her knees, hands covered in blood.
A bullet had pierced her side.
Time seemed to slow.
The rain fell now in furious sheets, washing away the edges of reality.
Ken rushed forward, heart pounding, every instinct screaming.
— "Hold on, Hansi!"
— "They… they're coming…!" she whispered, voice trembling.
Yuri reloaded.
The silhouettes advanced.
Danger loomed, tangible, ready to strike.
And amidst the roar of gunfire, one thought pierced Ken's mind:
"This is only the beginning."