No execution.
No grand finale.
Just… withdrawal.
Marj steps down from the platform without looking back.
And just like that, the spectacle collapses.
Roxy finally turns toward me.
Our eyes meet.
There’s no triumph in her expression.
Just something steady.
Certain.
I step down from the platform slowly, flexing fingers that still tingle from restraint. The crowd parts again, but not the way it did before. Not out of fear.
Out of uncertainty.
Marj didn’t win.
But she didn’t lose in blood either.
She chose to walk away.
Because Roxy made staying more dangerous than leaving.
And she did it without firing a single shot.
The realization settles heavy in my chest.
I tried to solve this with force.
With noise.
With death.
I charged in like a warhead and handed Marj a show.
Roxy walked in with nothing and dismantled her authority in front of her own people.
I was wrong.
Not tactically.
Fundamentally.
As I step off the platform and move toward her, the bond between us hums low and fierce, no longer frantic but grounded.
She doesn’t say “I told you so.”
She doesn’t say anything at all.
She just looks at me like she’s waiting for me to understand.
