''Fight back?'' Archer's laugh was a bitter, guttural sound, devoid of humour.
His fists clenched tighter, the muscles in his arms bulging as fresh blood trickled from where his nails dug into his palms. ''You think fighting back fixes this? They slaughtered them, Inara! Children who never held a sword, women who never raised a hand against them! Men who wanted to raise their families! The Alliance wanted to send a message, and they used their blood to write it!''
Archer's voice rose to a bellow, the ground trembling beneath him as his aura flared brighter, a dark storm of power that uprooted nearby trees and sent soldiers scrambling further away. Inara's jaw tightened, but she refused to back down.
''Archer, please,'' she pleaded. ''I'm begging you, don't let this break you. We'll find the ones who did this. We'll make them pay. But you can't do that if you're lost to this… this madness.''
