As the elevator rose toward the surface, Edward pressed the detonator. A dull, muffled thump vibrated through the floorboards. The Old Vault was no longer a headquarters; it was a tomb of molten slag.
They stepped out into the London rain, but the air felt different. The "dead zone" was still active, but the city lights were beginning to flicker back to their normal patterns.
Eileen looked at the skyscrapers of the North Bank District—the ones she now owned.
"What now?"
Edward looked at Jessy, then at the sisters.
"Now, we go home. We heal the mother we raise the child and if anyone else thinks they can play Architect with this family..." He looked out at the city, his eyes glowing with the fire of the God of War.
"...they know where to find us."
Joyleen hugged her sister.
"The Golden Girls are gone, Eileen. We're the Queens now."
"No," Eileen corrected, a small, genuine smile touching her lips as she watched Elara wake up and point at a passing police horse.
