Chapter 423: You Are All The Same
Mike stood amid the destruction, his weathered body swaying with exhaustion. Blood covered him from dozens of wounds, but he’d refused healing until everyone else was treated first.
Damian approached, his steps slowing as he got closer.
Mike’s head lifted, his eyes finding Damian’s face. When he spoke, his voice came out soft.
"I’ve already told everyone who was present not to talk about your skill." He paused. "Or mention anything about what they saw."
"But–"
"I know what you’re worried about." Mike’s interruption was gentle but firm. "But Mistress has the ability to make everyone very loyal to you and the Mafia."
Damian’s eyes widened slightly.
’Luna? Even Mike is calling her Mistress now?’
Mike continued, his voice carrying certainty that came from months of experience.
"There are almost zero chances of betrayal. That’s why everyone was fighting without fear of death today. No one abandoned the Mafia even when things looked hopeless."
His weathered face showed something like pride.
"Those whose loyalty was questionable, people Mistress couldn’t make truly loyal to the cause... we removed them over the past two months." He shifted his weight, wincing at the movement. "She spent the entire time you were gone handling everything. Making sure the foundation was solid."
’She must have unlocked a sub-skill related to her Empath skill...’ Damian’s thoughts turned the information over. ’Something that can create or strengthen loyalty...’
The implications were staggering, both for what it meant for the Mafia’s security and for what it said about Luna’s growth.
"I don’t usually say much to you..." Damian’s voice came out rough. "But thank you for everything, Mike."
The old man’s eyes widened slightly.
"Now go ahead and get yourself healed." Damian’s tone shifted to something firmer. "Also, if there is anyone who can still move, get them to help people throughout the city."
Mike stood there for a moment, his weathered face working through emotions too complex to name and his throat moved as he swallowed.
"You... have grown a lot throughout the past year, Damian. I wonder if I should be happy or sad." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
He didn’t wait for a response, just started walking again, his weathered form disappearing into the rain.
Damian stood alone in the destroyed street, Mike’s words hanging in the air like smoke.
****
The rain started as Damian walked through the destroyed city.
It came softly at first, just a few drops that fell cold against his blood-covered face. Then harder, becoming a steady downpour that washed some of the gore from the streets, turned the ash and dust into grey sludge.
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"
A man’s voice cracked across the street. He was clawing at rubble with his bare hands, chunks of concrete tumbling away as he dug. His fingers left red streaks on the grey stone.
"She’s under here! I can hear her! PLEASE!"
Two people rushed over, their hands joining his. They pulled at a massive slab, muscles straining.
"On three! ONE, TWO–"
CRACK
The slab came free and they threw it aside.
The man dove into the gap, his hands reaching. When he pulled back, his arms were empty. His face crumpled inward like something inside had collapsed. He made a sound that wasn’t quite words.
Across the street, a group was carrying something wrapped in a torn curtain. They moved carefully, their steps synchronized without speaking. One of them was crying silently, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt on his face. They laid their burden down beside four others, each one covered the same way.
A woman stood in front of a crater where her house had been. She took one step forward, then stopped. Her hands opened and closed at her sides, fingers grasping at nothing.
"The kitchen was right there." Her voice came out flat, pointing at empty air. "That’s where we ate breakfast this morning."
Nobody was standing near enough to hear her.
"RIGHT THERE."
A little girl, maybe seven years old, stood in the middle of the street. She turned in a slow circle.
"Mama?"
Her eyes scanned the people rushing past, the faces covered in blood and dirt and ash.
"Mama?"
She completed another rotation, her voice quieter now.
"Ma..ma?"
The word barely made it past her lips.
Emergency responders worked over a woman’s body on what remained of someone’s front steps. A man sat beside them, holding her hand. One of the responders looked up at his partner, shook his head once. The man holding the hand didn’t react or blink, just kept his thumb moving back and forth across her knuckles in that same gentle rhythm.
"Come on, love." His voice was soft. "Time to wake up now."
The responders started packing their equipment, their movements careful and quiet.
’It takes so long to build everything...’ The thought drifted through Damian’s mind. ’Years of effort to create homes, to establish lives, to build a sense of safety and normalcy...’
His eyes tracked across the destruction.
’And only a moment for it all to be destroyed completely.’
Then someone grabbed his arm.
SMACK
The slap came hard enough to snap his head sideways. His cheek burned, the sound echoing across the street despite the rain.
The people nearby went still.
"Is that–"
"Oh god, that’s him."
"She just hit Damian Valcor."
Damian’s head turned back slowly.
A woman stood in front of him, her face twisted with grief and rage. Her clothes were torn, covered in dust and blood. Her hair hung in wet tangles around her face.
And in her arms, she held a small body. A child, maybe three years old, completely limp. His face was pale, eyes closed and lips blue. But his chest caved inward where something heavy had crushed it, the unnatural depression visible even through his torn shirt. Blood had dried around his nose and mouth, darkened to near-black.
"You!" The woman’s voice came out as a scream that tore through her throat. "It’s all because of you! My child is dead because of you!"
Her hands grabbed Damian’s shirt, shaking him with strength that came from somewhere beyond physical capability.
"Those people came to kill you and your people! They attacked this city for YOU!"
Tears streamed down her face, mixing with rain and dirt.
"I saw you!" Her voice rose higher. "I SAW you running through the streets! All those orphans floating above you in those bubbles! Hundreds of them safe while my son was dying!"
Her hands beat against his chest, still holding her dead child with the other.
"I screamed at you! I begged you! PLEASE, my son! Take my son too! But you didn’t even look at me! You just kept running!"
She thrust the child’s body toward his face again, forcing him to see.
"Tell me the difference! LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME! What makes those orphans worth saving and my baby worth nothing?!"
The boy’s face was peaceful despite the death, like he was sleeping and his small hands hung limp.
Thump Thump Thump
The woman’s fists beat against Damian’s chest, weak and desperate.
"You and those nobles..." She was sobbing so hard the words barely came out coherent. "There is no damn difference! You are all the same!"
Thump Thump
"You only care for your own! Everyone else can just die! Selfish power-hungry murderers!"
Thump
"My baby... my baby didn’t deserve this..."
Damian stood there.
He didn’t move or speak and didn’t even try to stop her fists from hitting his chest. Just stood there and let her rage and grief pour out onto him.
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