Chapter 579: Benjamin, So Delicate and Fragile

"I swear to you, Susan. I'm willing to make any compromise for you, to give up anything, to change anything. Just… wait for me."

Susan's face lit with a soft, trusting smile, her eyes shining with renewed hope.

She nodded once, eyes still a little red but clear now, and lifted her hand in a small wave as Janin (and an angry customer unable to read the room) walked away toward the door.

***

High in the mountains that rose behind the city of Thaad, Octavius, Eve, and Janin had taken up position among the rocks and sparse trees, their forms blending with the darkness.

From their vantage the sprawl of the city lay far below, streets and rooftops reduced to a distant pattern of lights and shadows.

They had spent the entire evening searching, moving from one overlook to another, their eyes scanning the streets below, until at last they spotted the two figures descending the lower slopes, their forms emerging from the darkness.

Benjamin and Heka came into view looking almost like forest spirits, their appearance strange and wild.

Leaves still clung to them in crude coverings—Benjamin's lower half wrapped, Heka's body barely concealed in a makeshift bikini of green, the foliage rustling with each step.

Eve had spent precious time earlier looking for the rare Romeo-and-Juliet poison that would induce only a temporary death-like state, a substance that would simulate death without the permanence.

The shops she checked had none, their shelves empty of the rare compound.

Anything comparable would take until the following day to acquire, and that was far too late.

Reluctantly she had settled on her most potent lethal toxin instead, the kind that would end a normal life within seconds of entering the bloodstream, leaving no chance of recovery.

The choice sat heavily in her chest, a weight of guilt and necessity, but the window for action was closing.

Luck finally turned in their favor, fortune smiling on their endeavor: Benjamin and Heka separated from their companions and began walking alone along a quieter street that curved toward the edge of the city, their figures isolated and vulnerable.

Eve had activated the long-range sight that had been hers for thirteen years, the ability that had served her faithfully.

The ability pierced distance and, when she pushed it, even thin barriers of wood or stone, allowing her to see what others could not.

At roughly five hundred meters the two targets resolved into sharp focus for her alone, their forms clear and detailed as if they stood only steps away.

She settled onto her stomach on a flat stretch of rock, body stretched full-length, crossbow already braced and ready, her elbows planted for stability.

The weapon itself was a rare piece—enchanted so that the bolt would strike as though the target stood only an arm's length away, the flight nearly instantaneous once released, cutting through the air with unnatural speed.

Even so, Eve waited, her patience a discipline honed over a long time.

Years of careful work had taught her to trust the unexplained tightening in her gut that always preceded a perfect shot, that instinctive knowing that signaled the moment was right.

Until that sensation arrived she remained motionless, a statue of patience and concentration, her breath slow and controlled.

Behind her, Octavius sat with his back against a large boulder, knees drawn up to his chest, the weight of the coming act pressing on him like a physical burden.

"Goodness, I'm starting to lose heart over this, losing my nerve," he muttered, his voice sounding with doubt.

Janin crouched a short distance behind his sister, close enough to watch both the ridge and Octavius, his eyes moving between them.

He shot the other man a sharp sideways glance, his expression one of warning.

"Don't even dare. Not after we've come this far, and after everything we've sacrificed. Burn this bridge and let's get out of Thaad."

Eve heard every word, yet none of it reached the part of her mind that mattered, none of it penetrated her focus.

She had already entered the narrow, silent place where only the target and the shot existed, where the world reduced to a single point of concentration.

Her breathing stayed slow and shallow; her finger rested lightly against the trigger housing without pressure, ready but not yet committed.

The argument behind her faded into background noise, distant and irrelevant.

***

EVE

Can these two fools keep quiet for even a single full minute, just one moment of silence?

I need absolute stillness if this is going to land cleanly.

One chance.

That is all I get, the only opportunity I will have. If the bolt misses or even grazes wrong, Heka will sense the threat instantly and the entire attempt collapses, crumbles into dust.

After that she will never be vulnerable again, and we can forget about catching her off guard again.

I look at Benjamin once more through the clarity of the long sight, studying her form.

She is young—almost startlingly so—and beautiful in a soft, unguarded way, her features heavy with an innocence that seems out of place in this world.

Exhaustion shows in the slope of her shoulders and the heavy-lidded set of her eyes, the fatigue of the long night etched into her face.

She seems to be explaining something serious to Heka, lips moving, hands making small gestures, her expression earnest and focused.

Heka listens with the steady attention of someone who cares and values what is being said, someone who loves the speaker.

Thirteen years I have carried this ability to see across distances, this gift that sets me apart.

In all that time it has never deepened, never stretched farther or gained new facets, remaining static and unchanging.

Lately I have begun to wonder if it was only ever an innate gift and not something that could grow through effort.

Or perhaps I have reached the limit of what it can become.

The gut signal arrives without warning—sharp, certain and unmistakable, a signal I have learned to trust absolutely.

They are about to pass into the shadow of that dark corner ahead, a perfect position.

Once they step fully into it the angle will be perfect and the moment will be gone forever.

I settle the last fraction of aim, breath held, and prepare to send the bolt, my finger tightening on the trigger.

Once again, I confirm, she looks so delicate and fragile. She may not even feel the instant the poison takes her.

I surely hope she simply slips away without pain.

Forgive me, Benjamin.

I hold no grudge against you. I accept full responsibility for what comes next: for the innocent, precious life I am about to take.

I have known pain and suffering for too many years, carried them like companions. Peace and a chance at joy are no longer optional for me—they are necessities I will claim at any cost, no matter the price.

Farewell.