CHAPTER 61: ASHES OF THE TYRANT

The machine yard was silent at last.

Pike was dead.

Chains swayed above the pools of blood where Pike had fallen, their rusted links groaning in the wind.

The tyrant lay sprawled in the dust, eyes glassy, his scar frozen in a sneer that refused to die with him. It almost felt like he was mocking them even in death. For a long while, no one moved.

They just stood in the ruin of his domain, catching their breath, listening to the slow drip of blood sliding into cracks in the concrete.

It was Reid who finally broke the spell. "We need to move."

The words were flat, not sharp, but they carried weight. Everyone knew Pike might be dead, but his shadow still stretched across the city.

Not a single one of them wanted to spend a second longer in this city. This city carried memories that they would rather forget as soon as possible.

They left the yard without a word.

Since they were not under pressure this time, crossing the river back to the other side was easier and within a dozen minutes, they were across.

And once again, the Hollow Plains opened before them, gray and endless, a wasteland of brittle grass and cracked earth.

Compared to the chaos of Pike’s ambushes and the behemoth’s rampage, it felt almost empty, peaceful even. Their boots crunched softly; it was the only sound being made besides the wind.

Jonas walked stiffly, one hand pressed against his side where Travis’s healing had sealed but not erased the damage. Every step was stubborn defiance.

Travis trudged beside him, eyes bloodshot from overusing his gift, his jokes buried under exhaustion. Only once did he mutter, "Never thought I’d miss stabbing goblins in a pharmacy," before lapsing back into silence.

No one responded to his joke though.

Kara stayed near Ethan, spear angled loosely against her shoulder.

Her gaze flicked constantly over the horizon, wary, restless, like the fight hadn’t left her body. She knew that they couldn’t afford to let up till they arrived inside the walls of the quarantine zone.

Mira’s hair moved faintly in currents of wind too soft for anyone else to feel. She walked quietly, as if still lingering in the memory of her newfound strength.

And Reid led them from the front.

Upright despite his fading injuries, his rifle was slung steady across his back, his eyes scanning as though the war inside the city hadn’t ended, only shifted.

Ethan brought up the rear.

The Wheel pulsed faintly behind his vision, its glow dimmer now, like it too was resting after the storm. His gauntlet flickered in and out of existence in his grip as his thoughts circled Pike.

Not the fight, but the man.

The way Pike had laughed even as he bled, the way his gray eyes had burned with certainty that none of them could escape becoming what he was.

’Is that what we are now?’ Ethan thought. ’Killers of men... Executioners’.

He shook his head, forcing the question down. He’d already made his choice, Reid’s words echoed in him. ’Us or them’. And he had chosen us.

Still, the weight lingered.

They marched the whole day without seeing a single monster.

The Hollow Plains were barren, almost sterile, like the land itself had given up after the Rift scarred it. There were no ambushes, no swarms, only the wind tugging at their clothes, carrying dust into their teeth.

It was just too easy.

Suspicion hummed through the group like a shared thought, though no one voiced it out of fear of materializing their fears.

Travis finally broke the silence mid-afternoon. "You ever notice how the apocalypse doesn’t let you breathe unless it’s setting you up for a punchline? A funny one? You know, the kind with teeth?"

Jonas grunted. "You talk too much."

"Maybe," Travis said, forcing a crooked grin, "but at least I’m talking. You’re welcome for keeping the silence from eating us alive."

Even Kara smirked faintly at that, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

As dusk fell, they crested a low ridge.

And then, they saw it.

At first it was just a glow, faint against the horizon like a dot in a painting. Then the details sharpened.

Walls... massive, reinforced concrete latticed with Rift-metal plating that shimmered faintly in the dim light.

Towers jutted at intervals, their silhouettes bristling with turrets. Beyond, the faint shape of hangars and barracks rose, clustered like a city grown out of old military bones.

The quarantine zone.

For the first time in days, relief stirred in their chests. It was small, fragile, almost frightening in its intensity.

But it didn’t last.

Because the night air shuddered with the distant roar of monsters.

Tatatatata...

Gunfire cracked across the plains, distant but sharp.

Explosions rolled in waves, each one echoing through the Hollow Plains like thunder. The glow of the quarantine wall brightened with flashes of fire and arcs of elemental power.

And then came the howls, a chorus of beasts battering against the fortress.

The group froze on the ridge, staring across the plains at the distant siege.

Turrets lit the horizon with a steady staccato rhythm.

Flares of lightning and fire marked where Awakened soldiers fought atop the wall. For every monster that fell, two more hurled themselves against the defenses, their roars carrying across the empty miles.

"They’re under attack," Mira whispered.

"No," Reid said quietly, his eyes locked on the spectacle. "That’s not an attack, that’s a routine."

Ethan’s heart thudded. He understood.

The wall wasn’t enduring one battle, it was enduring them all. The quarantine wasn’t safety like they thought, it was a fortress at constant war.

And to reach it, they’d have to walk the road where monsters bled themselves against its guns... the Kill Road.

’Dammit!’

The group stood in silence, the sight hammering home a truth none of them wanted to speak... they weren’t finished, not yet.

The night sky burned with tracer fire and Rift-flame, painting the wall in flashes of red and gold.

And Ethan whispered to himself, almost without realizing it, "We’re close."

Close enough to see hope, yet close enough for it to be ripped away again.

They stayed on that ridge, watching the siege grind into the night.

The fortress stood unbroken, but the plain between them and the wall was a graveyard. And to reach the quarantine zone, they would have to cross it.