The clock struck midnight, and with it, the city seemed to hold its breath. A heavy fog rolled over the narrow streets like a living thing, wrapping every corner, every alleyway, in an eerie silence. Streetlights flickered weakly, their glow suffocated by the mist. Everything about the night screamed that something irreversible was about to happen.
Elian stood in the abandoned parking lot at the edge of town, his figure still as stone. The lot, once bustling with late-night shoppers, now lay forgotten—cracked asphalt, rusted lampposts, and graffiti-stained walls creating the perfect backdrop for a night like this.
He checked his watch. Selena was late. Or perhaps, right on time—for someone who always liked to stay in control, to make others dance to her rhythm. But Elian wasn't the same fool anymore. He had come prepared.
His heart pounded slowly, methodically, like a drumbeat heralding war. He could feel the weight of every decision that had led him here. Maren's warnings echoed in his mind, but he shoved them away. There was no room for doubt tonight. Only action.
The crunch of gravel underfoot jolted him to attention. He turned sharply, his hand sliding instinctively toward the weapon hidden inside his coat.
From the mist, a silhouette emerged.
---
Selena.
She wore black tonight—sleek, tailored, deadly. The coat she wore billowed behind her, a shadowy extension of herself. Her hair, usually tied back with ruthless precision, now cascaded around her shoulders, wild and untamed, as if matching the chaos she had unleashed into Elian's life.
"You're early," she said with a smirk, stepping into the dim cone of light under the broken lamp. Her voice was soft but laced with venom, every word deliberate.
Elian didn't respond immediately. He simply watched her, studying every movement, every expression. He wasn't here for conversation. He was here for closure.
"You came alone," Selena observed, glancing around the empty lot. "Brave. Or foolish. I haven't decided which."
"You always loved games," Elian said finally, his voice low and steady. "But tonight isn't about games. It's about ending this."
Selena tilted her head slightly, her smile deepening. "Ending what, exactly? The war between us? The lies? Or is it the illusion you clung to—that you could ever beat me?"
The way she spoke infuriated him, as if she still believed she held all the cards. As if she hadn't ripped his life apart and expected him to thank her for it.
"You betrayed me," he said, the words tasting like acid on his tongue. "You used me, you manipulated everything—and for what? Power? Money? What was it all worth to you?"
For the first time, a flicker of something unreadable crossed Selena's face. Regret? Doubt? It was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
"You think you're the only one who lost something?" she whispered. "You think you're the only one who was hurt?"
Elian took a step closer, the tension crackling between them like an electric storm.
"Don't you dare," he growled. "Don't you dare pretend you're the victim."
"I'm not pretending anything," Selena said, her voice suddenly cold. "But you never bothered to understand, did you? You were too busy playing the hero. Too blind to see the world for what it really is."
Elian's hand tightened around the gun beneath his coat, his knuckles whitening. Every fiber of his being screamed to end it now. To erase her from his life. To make her pay.
But another part of him—the part Maren had pleaded with—hesitated.
---
Selena took a slow step forward, her eyes never leaving his.
"You want to shoot me?" she said softly. "Do it. End it. You'll feel powerful for a moment. Maybe you'll even think you've won. But it won't change anything, Elian. It won't bring back what you lost. It won't fill the hole inside you."
Her words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
He raised the gun, his hand steady despite the whirlwind inside him.
Selena smiled sadly. "I'm already dead to you anyway. Pull the trigger."
The world seemed to shrink until there was nothing but the two of them, standing in a wasteland of their own making. Everything else—the city, the Cartel, Maren's voice in his head—faded away.
It was just him. Her. And the weight of everything they had built and destroyed together.
The seconds stretched, infinite and agonizing.
And then, slowly, Elian lowered the gun.
Selena's eyes widened—just for a moment—but she quickly masked her surprise with a flicker of amusement.
"Smart choice," she said.
"I'm not doing this for you," Elian said through gritted teeth. "I'm doing it for me."
He stepped back, never taking his eyes off her.
"I'm done letting you control me," he said. "I'm done letting you poison every part of my life. You're nothing, Selena. And tonight, I bury you without firing a single shot."
For the first time, Selena looked genuinely unsettled.
"You think walking away makes you strong?" she hissed. "You think you can just erase me?"
Elian smiled—a smile filled with all the sadness, the pain, the bittersweet freedom of finally letting go.
"You're already erased," he said.
And with that, he turned his back on her—on the war, the revenge, the endless cycle of hatred—and walked away into the mist.
Selena didn't call out to him. She didn't follow. She simply stood there, watching as he disappeared into the night, a shadow swallowed by the fog.
---
Hours later, Elian found himself standing on a bridge overlooking the river. The first light of dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and gold. The city stirred awake below him, unaware of the storm that had passed.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Elian breathed deeply—truly breathed. The weight on his chest lessened, if only slightly.
The war wasn't over. The world was still broken. But for now—for this one morning—he had reclaimed a piece of himself.
And that was enough.
He closed his eyes as the sun warmed his face, a single thought echoing in his heart:
This is not the end.
This is just the beginning.
---