Chapter 4
Roxana
His words didn't register at first. I was still staring at the blood dried along his cheek, the way his eyes—so tired, so human—had met mine when he said it.
I blinked. "Home?"
A strange silence hung between us before he answered, voice low. "That's what I said, yes."
The street stretched around us, unrecognizable. Cobblestone cracked, bodies sprawled like broken dolls, stripped from all the peace I'd been sheltered in.
"This was my home," I said, my voice dry and cracking with every syllable.
His expression didn't shift. But something settled behind his gaze, unreadable but heavy. "Not anymore."
"And where is this... real home?" What other place could I possible call home? This was the only place I'd ever known.
He shifted, reaching into the folds of his torn cloak. "I can't tell you that. Not yet."
"Why?" I hated how raw the word came out. I should have been grateful to him, after all he saved my life. But at the same time, he simultaneously came and destroyed it.
Zero pulled something from his belt—a small silver cylinder glinting faint in the moonlight, its tip marked red.
"My job was to find you," he said. "The rest waits."
The flare hissed as he twisted the cap, then fired it skyward. The projectile tore upward, a thread of crimson cutting the dark. It burst against the clouds, casting everything in an eerie bloom of red before vanishing into smoke.
"Explaining more right now would only confuse you," he added, sounding every bit the soldier under oath.
I shielded my eyes from the flash. "What was that?"
"A signal," he replied. "Two days ago, I sent word to the Vatican. Updated them on your location, your status. I had a feeling this was it… so I gave the order."
He turned slightly, eyes scanning the village's edges. "Small teams have been stationed outside the perimeter, hidden in the forest. They're here to clean up what's left."
"Clean up," I repeated, the words bitter on my tongue, as the distant sound of horses and metal clinking began to rise in the wind.
That's when I thought of the others. The only innocence I knew that still existed here. The ones too young to understand. The ones like—
"What about the children?" I asked suddenly, my voice cracking. "What's going to happen to them?"
Zero didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened, and for the first time, he looked away from me. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost careful.
"If they're not corrupted like their parents, they'll be taken in as refugees by the Vatican. There are safe houses. Schools. Places that can help them rebuild." His eyes met mine again. "Many of the children here are probably just as unaware of the truth as you were. Take your friend, for example."
I swallowed, thinking of Emmy. Of how I found her tonight— small and lifeless on the bakery floor. Her blood still warm. Her eyes still open. And Mara… standing over her like a shadow, mouth slick with red.
"She didn't know," I whispered. "She never had a chance."
Zero nodded. "But for those who did know… even if they're young—if they helped hide things, or worse—they'll be detained. Questioned. Their fate will be left to the Council."
It felt like a stone dropped in my stomach. Heavy.
The sounds were louder now—shouts, orders barked, the metallic rattle of weapons drawn. Soon they would reach the village square.
Zero turned fully toward me. "Stay close. No one will touch you while I'm here."
I looked up at him, wanting to ask more, but unsure if I could bear the answers.
Because how do you explain to a child that their parents were monsters? And worse… how do you live with the fact that you once loved them, too?
It didn't take long for the reinforcements to come in waves. They came from every angle of the valley. Soldiers on horseback, all wearing the symbol of the Helios Church proudly on their chests with weapons already drawn.
Zero stood close to me in the middle of the blood-slick street as the reinforcements arrived. He kept me in his line of sight, never straying far—even as the sound of boots pounded like thunder around us. His cloak shifted in the wind, stained darker than midnight, but he still stood tall.. Focused and commanding.
He barked orders to the incoming soldiers, his voice sharp and unwavering.
"Secure the northern alley. Sweep every home. No survivors unless verified clean. Keep the perimeter tight."
These were grown men—hardened, armored, trained for war. Yet they listened to him without hesitation. They moved when he moved. Stopped when he stopped. Their formation curved around him like he was the eye of a storm.
It hit me then: he was still just a teenager. My age, maybe a little older. But after everything I'd seen him do—how he fought, how he carried himself, how he bore the weight of every command—I realized he must be someone remarkable. Someone built for this kind of life.
It made me wonder what he'd lost to become that way.
Doors were broken down. Screams split the air as Skalls were dragged from their homes, some dazed, others fighting like cornered beasts. Blood spilled fast and without ceremony. Clean kills. No hesitation.
Mothers. Fathers. People I used to smile at in the market.
Children cried from doorways and stairwells, clinging to banisters, to soldiers, to one another.
"Mommy!"
"Please, no! That's my dad!"
A small boy screamed so loudly I thought his lungs would burst. His fingers clawed at the stone as he tried to crawl toward the body of a woman who no longer had a face. Another child, too young to understand, sat rocking back and forth, asking when breakfast was.
I couldn't look away.
"How… how can they do this in front of them?" I whispered, each word like broken glass in my throat.
"They have to," Zero said, his voice close beside me. "They can't be shielded from what their parents were. From what they were becoming."
"They're just kids!" I gripped him by the arm and forced him to look me in my eyes that were slick with tears. There were too many emotions swirling inside of me.
"I know, but this is for the best. The only way to survive in this disgusting world of ours is if they learn the truth of betrayal while they're still young. Ignorance is just as poisonous as lies."
He leaned down to my eye height and I froze in place. That emptiness returned to his gaze. His words were cold and precise.
Perhaps this was his way of letting his own scars inflect his view on these children, and while I couldn't understand since we were merely strangers, there was some truth to his cruel view of the world.
After all, he was a hardened person. Maybe in his eyes, this was his way of protecting the kids.
But that didn't mean I had to agree.
"Or would you prefer that we seize all the children and lie to them, telling them their parents abandoned them? Do you think that would make the hurt any less?"
My grip on his arm loosened, my hand hanging loosely by my side. I clenched my jaw so tight that my mouth tasted slightly of copper.
A soldier brushed past me, dragging a snarling man by the collar. The man's eyes were bloodshot, his teeth sharpened to fangs. He hissed curses even as the blade met his neck.
His daughter watched from the porch, trembling and silent.
I stared down at her. She stared back. She was around Emmy's age. Her small hands clutched the edge of the step like it was the only solid thing left in her world. Her eyes were hollow—like hope had died the second she saw what her father truly was.
And if the grief hadn't set in yet… it would soon.
The streets bled orange, rooftops collapsing in crackling heaps. Smoke curled like serpents into the night sky, and every burning ember was a cruel reminder of what I'd lost. My village. My friends. My home—what little of it had been real.
I stood there, watching it all fall apart, my chest so tight I thought it might crack open.
Zero came up beside me, his silhouette sharp against the glow. "It's done," he said simply. "Time to leave."
I shook my head. "Not yet."
He frowned.
"I need to say goodbye." My voice cracked worse than the cobblestones beneath my boots. "If I disappear, my parents… they'll wonder where I've gone. I—I can't just leave them."
Zero's gaze darkened for a moment, unreadable, before softening just enough to unsettle me. "Fine," he agreed. "But I'm coming with you."
The walk to my house was short, but it stretched like a lifetime. The village was crawling with soldiers now—sweeping homes, hauling Skalls into the streets. Cries and protests filled the air, blending with the hiss of fire and steel.
We turned the corner, and I saw them.
My parents.
Held at the center of the square, wrists bound, guarded by Helios soldiers.
My breath caught.
They didn't look like monsters. They looked like… them. My mother's hair tangled, face streaked with soot. My father standing rigid, his jaw locked with quiet defiance. But their eyes… that was what broke me.
There was no shock there. No fear. Only resignation.
Zero stayed at my shoulder, his expression carefully neutral.
"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "They—there's been a mistake—"
"There's no mistake," he cut in, low and cold. "You wanted the truth. Look at it."
The soldiers shoved them to their knees.
I moved before I could stop myself, pushing through the crowd. "Mom! Dad!" I shouted, every inch of me splintering apart.
My parents didn't protest. Didn't deny it. They just… let the soldiers drag them away.
But as they were shoved toward the carriage—a heavy, barred wagon stationed near the burning square—my mother's eyes finally found mine. Wide. Glossy with tears that cut clean lines through the soot on her face.
"Roxana," she choked, her voice cracking like brittle glass. She stumbled against the soldier's grip, reaching toward me, even as the iron shackles clanked at her wrists. "We… we never wanted this. You must believe me."
My chest caved. "What are you talking about—"
"We tried to protect you," my father interrupted, his voice lower, raw around the edges. His face, weathered and tight, broke apart with regret. "They told us to take you. Raise you. It was supposed to be for them—but we… we couldn't help but love you."
I shook my head, my throat burning as they were forced toward the carriage. "Why—why would you do that? You lied to me my entire life—"
"We were cowards," my mother whispered, tears spilling now, streaking red down her cheeks. "We wanted to run. But they'd find us. They always do."
Who is they? Who are they talking about?
The soldiers shoved them both toward the wagon, metal doors creaking open behind them.
I lurched forward, reaching for them. "I still love you. Even after all this—I—"
The words barely escaped my lips before Zero's hand clamped onto my shoulder, yanking me back with force.
He stepped past me, his movements cool, precise, detached.
My mother barely had time to brace herself before Zero struck, a swift blow to the temple. She crumpled, limp. My father lunged in protest—another sharp strike to his skull dropped him, too.
"Stop!" I screamed, the sound shredding my throat as I shoved at Zero's chest. "What the hell is wrong with you? That's my family!"
He barely blinked, adjusting his glove, eyes sharp as cut stone. "They're not your family," he corrected coldly. "They're traitors. Failures. And you're being foolish."
"You didn't have to hurt them—"
"They'll live," he interrupted, signaling to the soldiers to load the unconscious bodies into the carriage. "But justice comes first. You want to cling to sentiment? Fine. But don't expect me to humor your delusions."
I staggered back, the smoke thickening, the fire casting everything in crimson ruin.
For a moment, just one fragile heartbeat, I'd thought Zero might be on my side.
But standing there—watching my parents' limp forms locked in a cage, watching him turn away without hesitation—I realized the truth.
He wasn't on my side.
He was on the side of the Empire.
And suddenly, I didn't know if the heat on my face was from the fire… or the betrayal burning under my skin. I didn't know what the Empire wanted from me, but watching the world unravel through the embers of my past life that I had cherished with my whole heart; I knew one thing was clear.
I wasn't on the Empire's side either.