The man sat in his study.
His fireplace crackled.
Marco knocked on the door.
"Enter."
Marco walked in and knelt down.
The man pulled out a pocket watch.
"The cells?"
Marco reported.
"Recovered."
The man pressed the watch, opening it.
"Citizens?"
Marco's hand rested on his chest.
"Safe."
The man paused.
"And 03?"
His pocket watch ticked.
Marco exhaled.
"Dead."
He closed the pocket watch.
He stood, glass in hand, and walked to the window overlooking the city.
He swirled the drink.
The moon reflected on its side.
"His purpose..."
The man raised the glass and took a small sip.
"...fulfilled."
...
The air stiffened.
Their breathing halted.
Kane moved past them.
Stopping a distance away.
Grimm's face softened.
Jean stood composed.
Elaina exhaled.
"That was..."
Art turned.
"K—"
She cleared her throat.
"Have Dean prepare the truck."
Jean tapped her communicator and notified Dean.
The truck arrived shortly after.
Grimm and Elaina took the void cells and placed them in a special transfer case.
Art checked the train car for anything of interest.
Ash was untouched.
They entered the truck.
Kane returned shortly after.
He entered.
Dean turned the key.
The truck's ignition clicked.
Its engine started.
The team was still.
No speaking.
No movement.
The wind was quiet.
The wasteland made no noise.
The truck slowed down.
Dean opened the garage door.
He parked.
Jean and Grimm exited the truck first.
Unloading equipment.
Elaina followed behind.
Art leaned out of the door.
Her eyes glanced at Kane.
He was still.
Cold.
Art followed Jean to deliver the void cells to Arthur.
Grimm and Elaina headed for the courtyard.
"We'll save you a seat."
Elaina put her hands behind her head and caught up with Grimm.
Art and Jean arrived at Arthur's office, Jean knocking on the door.
"You may come in."
Jean turned the knob and entered the room, Art shortly behind her.
Arthur turned his chair to face them.
Jean stepped forward and placed the case on his desk.
Arthur opened it.
He took one of the void cells into his hands, inspecting it.
The deep black liquid shone in the light.
He placed it back and closed the case.
"Good work."
He leaned back.
"File the report tomorrow."
"Yes sir," Jean replied.
Art stood firm.
Arthur lifted his mug.
"Kane," he continued, "how was he?"
Art's face tightened.
Jean glanced at her and stepped back.
"He..."
Her fingers twitched.
"Completed the mission."
Her breathing slightly elevated.
She turned her eyes away.
"That's all."
Arthur noticed.
He rotated his chair, taking a sip of his coffee.
His attention turned to the setting sun.
"Dismissed."
Art and Jean nodded and left the room.
Art placed her hand on her chin.
Her head lowered.
Jean's pace was slightly ahead of her.
She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
Art's hand lowered as she kept pace with Jean.
"Nothing."
"Is that so?"
Jean exhaled.
The two entered the courtyard.
Next to the fountain, Grimm and Elaina were eating.
Elaina noticed them and waved for them to join.
Art and Jean headed over.
Art's head slowly scanned the room.
She couldn't find Kane.
Plates of food were shared.
Forks moved in unison.
Light conversation replaced the sound of chewing.
"This stuff is good." Grimm heavily exhaled.
"Totally," Elaina replied.
"So how did you guys beat him?" Jean asked.
"Who?" Art lifted her fork.
"That watchman." Jean sipped her water.
"Oh," Art finished chewing, "we didn't."
Elaina interjected, pointing her spoon at Art.
"Yeah, he just kind of left."
"Forget that." Grimm put down his drink. "Who was that in front of Kane?"
The forks stopped.
The chewing stalled.
A pause.
Then breathing returned.
"I don't know." Art straightened her posture. "But there was a brand of some sort on his arm."
Grimm's head tilted.
"Brand?"
"I couldn't tell. His shadow covered it."
"Whatever."
The courtyard fountain flowed steadily.
Forks resting on empty plates.
They said their goodnights before heading to their rooms.
...
Kane entered his room.
The door closed behind him.
His magnums unholstered.
Placed on the desk.
He sat down.
Centered on his bed.
Dim light shone in the hallway.
Footsteps passed his door.
Cracks present on his arm.
Not glowing.
Not open.
Close.
He gazed down.
Silent.
Alone.