Merchant carts shatter. Lights burst. The ship blinks. Pillars paint with charred crags.
Many fall. Delegates. Guards. Elders. And Kings.
The plaza’s emergency lights kick on as loose bolts arc into oblivion. And there in the middle is my ruthless father.
He takes a knee.
The last look he gives me is indecipherable. It is a mix of pain, awe, and regret. Like he sees something he’s never seen before and wishes he was on the other side of this war.
In my heart I know it is only because he wants to win.
As he falls back, my surge sputters out. The Storm inside me softens to a calm almost sad undulating swirl. We have destroyed our father, a Storm we should love and cherish. And in this moment, I pity my father’s Storm for being stuck in his wretched body, burdened by his ideals.
At least, he will never threaten anyone ever again.
Emergency systems kick on. A familiar woman breaks away from her guards in a far corner of the plaza, pushes past Elders to a Rogue soldier who steps out from the battlefield and catches her like it’s been thirty years they’ve been apart.
Avarylis.I’m glad she’s finally happy.
I turn around, searching for Jovie. She runs two steps and jumps into my arms. Drawing in her scent, I memorize the softness of her against me.
She lightly punches me in the chest. “ATorchbearer?” Jovie squints up at me. “Might have been good to know so I could’ve picked up some shades on the way!”
I grimace. “Sorry?”
Jovie’s irritation turns into a wince. “Is he…?”
Dead?“I think so.”
“So you’re free?”
“Give me a second?”
“Of course.” I set her down and walk up the platform steps to where my father lies, wishing I had used some restraint. I didn’t want to kill him, but he would never have stopped if I didn’t.
His servant, Wystor, with a burn mark across his chest and a split in his forehead, extends the crown to me. “It’s yours now.”
I take it in hand but don’t put it on. “I am not taking the throne. No single person ever will with Genesis. New Order can do whatever they want.”
“They better get off this ship before a whole lot of pissed-off Amps turn on them!” a Rogue soldier bellows, crushing thelast Denarsoan soldier’s core with an electric fist. “Or we’ll eject them out an airlock with the rest of the enemytrash.”
I look at the Royals, still collecting themselves, and the bodies of dead Denarsoans around us.
Shouts in agreement circulate through the Genesis survivors, and it makes Royals begin portalling offGravion.
Vybron steps forward. “Pilots and commanding officers have just teamed up to get the ships where the people want to go. Sort of a community consensus.”
“No crowns.” I hand my father’s to Jorusk. “Care to destroy this?”
“Pleasure, sir.” Jorusk melts and twists the crown, then holds the mangled mess in the air.
“Ourplanetandpeopleare king. We decide our future!” I call out.
Commoners, soldiers, and a few Royals gone Rogue cheer. And finally, my people feel free.
I draw Jovie under an arm and rest a hand to her belly. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better with you back in my arms.” She draws me against her. “Now kiss me, you big hunk.”
