I Copy the Authorities of the Four Calamities

The adrenaline crash was brutal.

Vane sat on the edge of the rusted balcony. His legs dangled over the churning fog bank. His body felt like it had been run through a rock crusher. Every muscle fiber was twitching. His mana reserves were dangerously low and he was pretty sure three of his ribs were cracked again.

Next to him sat Senna.

She wasn't crashed. She was vibrating. The twenty-four-hour lease on life Isole had granted her was still burning hot in her veins. She glowed with a terrifying vitality in the dimming light. Her skin was pale and flawless. Her dark eyes were restless. She kept flexing her hands marveling at the absence of pain.

The sun was setting behind the eternal cloud layer. It turned the grey world into a bruised landscape of deep purples and blood reds. It was the most color Vane had ever seen in the forgotten sector.

He reached inside his shredded uniform jacket and pulled out a dented metal flask.

"It is cheap whiskey," Vane said offering it to her. "Probably tastes like lighter fluid."

Senna took it. She didn't sniff it suspiciously this time. She took a long hard pull her throat working. She lowered the flask wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A flush rose on her cheeks that had nothing to do with sickness.

"It is terrible," she said handing it back. "Give me another."

They passed the flask back and forth in silence for a while watching the light die. The manic energy of the rooftop battle faded replaced by a heavy suffocating awareness of the ticking clock.

"You stopped calling me rat," Vane murmured looking out at the fog.

Senna rested her elbows on her knees leaning forward. "Rats scurry in the walls Vane. They survive by never being seen."

She turned her head to look at him. Her gaze was intense stripped of the layers of cynicism and command she usually wore like armor.

"Today you stood in the open field with a Rank 6 Expert at full power. You didn't run. You didn't hide. You held the line."

She reached out and touched his arm. Her hand was warm and strong and alive. It wasn't the fragile claw that had clutched at him in the ward.

"You aren't a rat anymore Vane. You are the man who is going to carry my spear."

Vane felt a lump form in his throat. He had spent his whole life trying to be invisible. He tried to be underestimated. Being seen... really seen... by someone like her was terrifying in a way no physical blow could be.

"We missed our time didn't we?" Vane whispered taking another pull of the harsh whiskey.

Senna let out a soft bitter laugh. "Two years. If you had come to the Academy then... if I hadn't taken that corridor..."

She shook her head. "I would have hated you. You would have been insubordinate and reckless and running dice games in the barracks."

"And you would have thrown me in the brig every weekend," Vane countered with a weak grin.

"Every single weekend," she agreed. Her smile faded replaced by a raw aching sadness. "And then I would have promoted you. Because you are the only one who understands that sometimes you have to fight dirty to keep the good people alive."

She leaned closer her shoulder pressing against his.

"We would have been a hell of a team Vane. You would have lied to the enemy and I would have broken them when they got confused."

The tragedy of it hit Vane like a physical blow. They were perfect for each other. Two broken cynical survivors who had finally found someone who understood their language. And they had found each other at the very end of the last page.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon line. The purple light faded to cold grey. The air instantly chilled.

Senna shivered. It wasn't from the cold. It was fear.

She looked at her hands again healthy and strong in the twilight.

"It is going to end soon," she said. Her voice was tight. "Another few hours maybe. And then the elf's magic wears off. And the crash comes."

She looked at Vane. The fierce general was gone. There was just a woman who was terrified of going back to the dark.

"I don't want to go back to that bed Vane. Not like this. Not while I can still feel my own skin without hurting."

She stood up abruptly. The movement was restless and full of nervous energy. She paced the small balcony a caged tigress running out of time.

She stopped in front of him. She reached down and grabbed the front of his torn uniform jacket hauling him to his feet.

She was tall. Powerful. Radiating heat and life. She looked at him with a hunger that had nothing to do with violence.

"The pact," she said fiercely. "We agreed. We don't let it rot. We use the loophole. We open the door."

Vane's heart hammered against his ribs. "Senna we said we would do it at the end. When you were ready to go."

"This is the end you idiot," she hissed shaking him slightly. "This..." she gestured to her healthy body her blazing eyes "...this is the lie. The truth comes back in a few hours and the truth is agony and decay."

Her grip on his jacket tightened.

"I won't do it like that. I won't have our final moment be you pity-fucking a corpse in a mildewed ward while I scream."

She pulled him closer until their bodies were pressing together. He could feel the power humming under her skin the sheer overwhelming vitality of her prime.

"I want to give it to you now," she whispered her voice dropping to a raw plea. "While I am whole. While I am strong. I want the last thing I ever truly feel to be alive."

She stared up into his eyes baring her soul.

"Take me inside Vane. Be a parasite one last time. Take everything I have before the dark gets it."