A pale man in a workman’s coat stands in front of the Division plaza.

  The coliseum shines in the distance with more light than the stars in the night sky.

  Cassandra still hasn’t answered the signal that will tell them if the plaza is safe to enter.

  The man and the child beside him don’t care.

  They will be acting out their plan tonight, with or without her.

  The guards hold out their spears as the pair step through the doors. “Stop right there!”

  The girl laughs at the feeble weapons of the humans. “I guess the true warriors are indisposed at the moment.”

  She seeks shelter behind the tall leg of her brother. “Cut them down, my Smith.”

  The man tosses off his coat and leaps into the air.

  The guards die as he lands.

  He catches the coat before it can fall and puts it on, hiding the many scars on his body that are now bleeding out.

  The girl taps one of the metal spikes that the corpse of a guard rests on. “Pure iron. I can’t think of a better sight. Quickly now, my Smith. If Cassandra was right, our goal should be just below us.”

  Cassandra freezes at the impossible scene in front of her and her family.

  Should she say something?

  If she does, then both Adamus and Vanessa will know that she’s been conspiring with the Machinists. But he shouldn’t be here.

  He promised that he wouldn’t be. He was supposed to wait for her to answer the signal.

  Why is Smith at the coliseum, and why is Adamus now choking him? Vanessa is the first to ask these questions. “Who is that?”

  She steps over Davon’s jacket. Looking down at the inscription, she realizes that her plans have just hit a massive setback.

  “One of my men found him with Davon’s jacket.” Adamus huffs as his grip tightens on Smith’s neck. Smith squirms under the pressure. Frantically kicking their legs as they gasp for breath.

  “Please…” Smith reaches for their throat, the wound on their palm bleeds, but refuses to summon any metal.

  “That proves nothing.” Vanessa puts her foot down. “The Elf will be here tomorrow, she’s already confessed to the crime, you can-”

  “Then why did he have the jacket!” Adamus yells, pounding a fist into the wall beside Smith’s head.

  Cassandra has to do something, fast. Adamus is out for blood, and Vanessa is only concerned with preserving her plan.

  She has to think of something.

  There has to be a rational way to explain all of this. Cassandra grits her teeth before finding it.

  She rushes forward. “I can explain!”

  “You can?” Adamus, Vanessa, Tendo, and Loeb all ask in confused unison.

  Smith falls from Adamus’s grasp as Cassandra folds her arms. All eyes are on her now.

  “Yes.” She sighs. Blushing in embarrassment for the second time tonight as she mentally prepares herself for what she is about to say.

  “You all know that I’ve been sneaking into the city, right?”

  The group nods.

  Smith stands, their legs still shaking as they cough for breath.

  Cassandra winces at them. They only bear a passing resemblance to the Smith she knows, but she continues regardless. “Well, I was meeting with someone who had contacts off-world and agreed to bring Davon’s jacket here. This is uh… well, this is the person I was meeting with.” Cassandra nervously holds out her hands, pointing at Smith.

  The entire group turns to them in search of confirmation.

  “Isn’t that right?” Cassandra drags out the words, hoping that she gets a reply.

  Smith’s dark eyes aimlessly drift over the strange humans in a silent daze.

  Cassandra has no choice but to draw on her last resort. “Right? Smith?”

  A shock runs up Smith’s spine at the sound of their name. “Uhh… yes.”

  They limp over to the trampled coat on the floor. Vanessa lifts her boot off it. She glares down at Smith with a judging scowl as they pick up the coat. Smith hastily moves away from her and hands the bundle of fabric off to Adamus.

  “Well… Thank you, Cassandra. That’s…” Adamus isn’t sure what to say. His gaze hangs on Smith as he sneers at both them and Cassandra. “Very considerate of you.”

  He folds the coat under his arms and slowly walks away. Vanessa and the others shortly follow behind him.

  “No problem, Adamus,” Cassandra calls out.

  Adamus? Wasn’t that the name of Nadeden’s son? Smith thinks while watching the young man walk away.

  Cassandra pulls on Smith’s ear before they can further question the identity of their attacker.

  “What are you doing here?” Cassandra angrily mutters, dragging Smith aside.

  “How about you tell me how you know my name, first?” Smith shoots back.

  Vanessa glances at the pair. “Cassandra? Are you going to make your friend a guest or-”

  “No, Mother, I’m just having a word with him!” She blurts out at Vanessa, who has no choice but to carry forward.

  Smith breaks away from Cassandra’s grip, straightening their disheveled clothing. “I’m getting sick of this. I need to go find my friend.”

  Cassandra plants her hands on her hips. “She should be at the Division plaza with you, but you were supposed to wait for me to answer the signal first.”

  Smith imitates her as they stare her down. “What signal? I’ve never met you before in my life.”

  Cassandra gazes into Smith’s eyes before looking back at Adamus and her Mother. The group is already turning down the corridor.

  She’s out of time and out of options.

  “Hey! What are you doing!” Smith yelps as Cassanadra forces their shirt off.

  “You’re a Machinist.” She taps the hole left by the consciousness transfer machine.

  Smith steps back, snatching their shirt from Cassandra’s hands. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Smith throws the shirt back on, sprinting into the hall in search of Nadeden.

  “The other Machinists are at the Plaza right now.” Cassandra rushes off after her Mother after saying the words.

  The statement stops Smith dead in their tracks.

  They glance out the carved window to view the towering Plaza in the distance.

  It wouldn’t be a long run.

  Smith can make it over there if they hurry.

  Nadeden crawls out of the pipe, rising to cast the mud and various gunk off her cloak before giving up and fully discarding the thing.

  She removes her bow from her Satchel, creeping up the stairs by the drainage system as she nocks an arrow.

  The trampling boots of Division and Republic guards alike fill the hall above her.

  She presses against the doorway at the top of the stairs.

  She gently cracks open the door, using her good eye to check if the area is clear. A Republic chef carrying a decorative cake passes by before Nadeden fully opens the door and sprints out into the hall in the opposite direction.

  She prowls along the corridors, drawing her bow at every turn, only to find she has no reason to.

  Each hall is somehow emptier than the last.

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  The echo of a low roar from the audience in the arena rings in Nadeden’s ears as she follows the spiral staircase upwards. Her bow remains drawn as she reaches the top and is met by Vanessa Soryu.

  Thankfully, the President of the Republic of Humanity marches past her without a second thought.

  Nadeden allows herself a smirk as she darts across the hall into the next doorway.

  It is there that she watches a rather stressed young woman rush off after Vanessa in a wedding gown.

  She’s awfully young, Nadeden thinks with a fire of scolding judgment, Don’t tell me that you’ve stooped that low, Gelmidas.

  Adamus grasps Cassandra’s arm once she finally catches up to the group.

  He forces her to his side, whispering, “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Cassandra plays dumb. “What do you mean?”

  Adamus lets go of her, setting Davon’s jacket in her hands. “You know exactly what I mean. No one bought your little act back there. We only left because everyone is in a hurry to get this over with.”

  Vanessa smiles at Adamus and takes his side in the confrontation. “Adamus is right, dear. You and I are going to have a stern talk after the wedding about what exactly happened back there.”

  Adamus is surprised to find himself in agreement with Vanessa. An odd feeling of disgust shivers through his body. It even unnerves the beast.

  He pushes forward to the arena’s main gate without another word.

  Cassandra tosses the jacket over her shoulder, silently walking at her own pace.

  Loeb catches the blue clump of fabric before it can hit the floor. Vanessa takes it from him, holding it pinched between two fingers of contempt.

  “Loeb?”

  The General stands at attention. “Yes, Madam President?”

  Vanessa drops the jacket.

  “The Scorched Archer is here. Go kill her before she causes a scene.”

  Nadeden’s wooden leg clicks on another flight of stairs leading toward the private viewing loge.

  It sits atop the coliseum like a watchtower, offering the best angle to observe the arena.

  And the best angle to fire an arrow from.

  Nadeden slowly makes her way up the steps one by one. Her eye scans both what is in front of her and what is behind her. She has to be more careful than ever, but at the same time, she’s more worried than ever.

  Smith said they would find her.

  Where are they?

  “Nadeden?” A faint voice mumbles in the distance, only barely able to glance at her from below the stairs.

  Nadeden softly creeps back down the stairs, hopeful.

  “Smith?” She asks, her leg striking the brick floor just a few steps away from Gelmidas.

  His hair is as gray as hers now.

  His face wrinkled and worn.

  The frames of his glasses now wood.

  But beneath all those changes, his eyes have remained the same shade of green.

  The bow slips from her hand.

  “Nadeden!” Smith shouts, spotting her at the end of the hall.

  Nadeden turns to them.

  Gelmidas hurries to speak as she glances back at him. “I-”

  Nadeden doesn’t hear Gelmidas.

  She springs down the hall to embrace Smith in a hug.

  The pair tightly wrap their arms around each other, as Gelmidas watches.

  “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” Nadeden looks Smith over, patting down their dirtied clothes. Ignorant of the fact that they received most of the dirt from her.

  “I’m fine, but you stink.” Smith laughs, wiping a clump of what they hope is mud off her shoulder.

  “Yeah, I bet you’re thankful you didn’t follow me down into the pipes now.” She jokes.

  Gelmidas leaves the scene behind him with a tearful smile.

  He only wipes his eyes when Loeb passes him with a blade in hand.

  “General Loeb? Where are you going?”

  The General pushes past him. “I can’t tell you that, Emperor.”

  Gelmidas rushes to stop Loeb, darting in front of him. “Why not?”

  Loeb twirls his blade, sighing, “Go see your son Gelmidas. The ceremony should be underway by now.”

  Gelmidas firmly plants himself in the hall, standing defiantly before Loeb. “Let’s go together.”

  Loeb squints. “You aren’t going to let me pass, are you?”

  Gelmidas gives the brick of a man twice his size a wide grin.

  “I’m the Emperor of the Division of humanity. Even if you’re carrying out the commands of your President, I still overrule you.” He adjusts his glasses. The torchlight shines against the lenses, reflecting orange flame.

  Loeb shrugs. “Fair enough, but just between you and me.”

  He hangs the stone blade over the strap on his shoulder. “You’re already a dead man, Gelmidas Atheneum.”

  Adamus spins away from his betrothed.

  Twirling beneath the hail of confetti raining down from the rafters, he does his best to soak in the moment, closing his eyes as blue and white strips fall onto the dim lenses of his sunglasses.

  He laughs as the crowd applauds him.

  After all this time, all the days leading up to this…

  Days that he spent being scolded, insulted, lectured to, and grieving, he’s finally made it. He’s finally here, where he belongs.

  The audience worships him. They all shout his name.

  If only he could take off his bracers right this instant, and quell this wretched pain building inside him. That is the one thing that could make this all the more perfect.

  But as of right now, everything is just right.

  Nothing can ruin this moment.

  Adamus won’t let it.

  He grins as he removes his sunglasses and hops atop the platform where the priest is waiting.

  He holds a hand out to Cassandra, who walks beside her Mother, anxious and overwhelmed.

  She takes Adamus’s hand as he jokingly mutters, “Welcome to the last night of your life.”

  Nadeden lifts her bow off the floor, nocking the arrow with the iron head as Smith chuckles, “I can’t believe you dropped it.”

  Nadeden’s fingers run along the bowstring, twisting on it.

  She looks to Smith. “This is our last chance to turn back.”

  Smith lowers their head.

  Nadeden sighs. “We could call Granix right now. Go back to the village where Shanna and her family live. Triminiv would probably also be happy to see us and-”

  “I can’t do that, Nadeden.” Smith clutches the bloodied bandana wrapped on their palm.

  “Before I ran into you, someone told me that a group of Machinists are at the Plaza right now.”

  Nadeden's grip loosens on her bow. “Let’s go to the Plaza, then.”

  “No.” Smith steps forward, passing Nadeden to walk up the stairs.

  “You don’t get it, do you? They probably think that they’re going to kill Gelmidas. The Rusting destroyed everyone I loved. Gelmidas did that.” They stop halfway up the steps.

  Noticing that Nadeden isn’t following them, Smith goes back for her.

  “He killed your son, Nadeden. Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten that.”

  Adamus smiles as Gelmidas finally joins him at his side.

  The cheers the audience gives at his arrival can’t compare to the happiness his son feels to be with him during all of this.

  “I was beginning to think you would never make it,” Adamus whispers as the crowd dies down. Gelmidas holds back tears again as the Priest begins to speak.

  “What’s wrong?” Adamus asks.

  Gelmidas takes off his glasses, wiping them of the teardrops and confetti. “I’ll tell you afterward.”

  Vanessa narrows her gaze on the Emperor.

  Something is wrong with him. She can’t quite put her finger on it yet.

  You aren’t planning to seize my power now? Are you Gelmidas? Is that why you’re crying? Her thoughts race in her mind, nearly spiraling out of control until she spots Loeb taking a seat.

  Another thought enters her mind then.

  One that makes all the pieces finally fall into place.

  But no, it’s impossible.

  Yet it makes too much sense. They both knew each other during the war. They were even in the same group. He hardly mentions her unless it’s in passing, as if scorned by her...

  Her exile lines up with the timeline the boy gave me of his village burning down. And he proposed this whole marriage under the idea that she was a threat!

  Now she’s here tonight, Gelmidas is in tears, and Loeb is back empty-handed…

  Vanessa can hardly hide her shock as she makes the realization all too late.

  This puts everything in my favor!

  I can’t believe it!

  The Atheneum boy’s Mother is-

  Nadeden follows Smith up the stairs.

  “I haven’t forgotten.” She states, raising her bow.

  Smith nods. “Good, because I’m never going to forget what the Rusting did to me.”

  Smith leads the way to the viewing loge with Nadeden behind them.

  The pair put one foot in front of the other, marching up to the tower above.

  Smith can’t believe how easy it was to get here.

  Security was pretty light, all things considered, and everything seemed to work out in their favor.

  As their bloodied hand opens the door, Smith is met by the night sky.

  It seems as if tonight was fated to happen.

  Even as Nadeden kneels down on the guardrail by the window overlooking the arena, the sight is triumphant enough to prove to Smith that they made the right decision in coming here.

  The only strange thing that still bites at them was the young man who pinned them to the wall.

  As Nadeden aims the iron arrow downward, Smith tries to recall the name of that man. It had puzzled them.

  But why?

  That girl in the wedding dress said it so quickly that it was almost hard to catch. But Smith now remembers it as Nadeden’s eye meets her target.

  Yes, the man’s name was

  “Adamus?”

  The name leaves Nadeden’s lips the instant she sees him.

  He’s standing down there. Looking into the eyes of the young woman that she spotted in the hall.

  He’s grown in twelve years.

  His posture, his height, the very way he carries himself has matured.

  Yet, remarkably, his hair, his face, his eyes, are all exactly the way Nadeden remembers them.

  She knows that there’s no way that he could have survived the fire, but here he is as clear as day.

  The baby she once held in her arms.

  The child she protected.

  The boy she raised until he was taken from her.

  He’s right here on the other end of her arrow.

  Alive and breathing.

  How is it possible?

  It can’t be right.

  She watched him die.

  Gelmidas killed him.

  How is Adamus still standing?

  She watched him die!

  It must be some trick.

  Some illusion.

  She’s seeing things again.

  Adamus couldn’t have survived.

  She spent all those years grieving him, all those years waiting for her revenge.

  Everything since the day he died has led her here, and now he’s alive?

  It can’t be real.

  Yet, as those green eyes he inherited from his Father blink. Opening and closing as they once did on her as she held him in her arms. Nadeden knows that despite everything that tells her it can’t be right, the truth is plain and simple.

  Her son is alive.

  And the iron arrow is speeding toward him.