The morning that followed the massacre at the clock tower did not bring light. It brought a heavy, suffocating grey that seemed to bleed out from the very center of the room.
The Solaris Coven was gone, their brass masks scattered across the floor like discarded shells, but the victory felt like a cosmic joke. The "Trinity of Monsters" stood in a jagged circle around the center of the tower, where the air was still thick with the scent of ozone and the terrifying, lingering chill of the Violet Eclipse.
Kassian was still on his knees. His massive hands, which had crushed staves of ash and broken the necks of assassins, were wrapped around the waist of a statue. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. He looked like he was trying to phase through the marble through sheer force of will.
"Step back, Kassian."
