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There are many kinds of endings. Some are loud. Some are wet. Some are clever. This one was none of those. It was thorough. It was an accountant sweeping the last coins into the correct box and writing a line under the total and not making the flourish too big because that would be vulgar.
Kai set the last man down with a hand on his throat and a small adjustment of wrist that said, Stop thinking you matter to our story, not unkindly, not with contempt, just with a tiredness that belongs to men who have turned too many pages like this. The body sighed and obeyed.
Silence tried to arrive. It didn't quite manage. Men still breathed hard. A woman sobbed once and then turned it into a cough. Someone's blade clinked against a stone because hands shake after they have been calm too long.
