Marcus POV
I handed the woman over to the medics and stepped back.
That was when the second message arrived.
Direct.
Unencrypted.
From Catherine.
You didn't have to do this.
I stared at the words longer than necessary.
She wasn't threatening me.
She was disappointed.
That was worse.
I typed one line in response.
Neither did you.
I knew what came next.
Reclassification.
Narrative containment.
My authority becomes conditional.
But I also knew something else.
For the first time since this began, the harm would no longer be quiet.
People had seen it.
Touched it.
I carried it.
And systems cannot erase what bodies remember.
As the medics loaded the woman into transport, she stirred.
Her eyes opened briefly -unfocused, frightened.
She looked at me.
Not as a leader.
Not as a symbol.
As someone who had been there.
I squeezed her hand once.
"I'm here," I said.
That was the truth.
Whatever they made me next.
Whatever they called me.
I had chosen.
