Chapter Seven –
The city was no longer theirs.
By dawn, every bridge in Corvane had eyes on it. The Vale insignia — once a symbol of control — was painted over with red slashes. The police, the rival crews, the scavengers — everyone smelled blood.
Luciana and Rhea moved through the undercity, the forgotten tunnels beneath East End, where trains no longer ran and the air smelled of rust and electricity. Rhea led the way, flashlight trembling in her hand, gun strapped under her coat.
"Where are we going?" Luciana asked, her voice echoing off the concrete walls.
Rhea didn't look back. "Somewhere they won't think to look."
Luciana gave a faint, bitter laugh. "No such place in Corvane."
They reached a junction — an old maintenance hub filled with half-broken generators. Rhea shut off the light and motioned for silence.
Footsteps above.
Slow. Searching.
Luciana froze.
Rhea raised her finger — one, two, three — then moved like a shadow.
The first man dropped silently, knife between his ribs. The second barely turned before Rhea's gun coughed once. The echo rolled down the tunnel like thunder.
Luciana exhaled, shaky. "Still fast."
"Still alive," Rhea replied.
She wiped the blade clean, holstered it, and finally looked at her — pale, damp, hair clinging to her face. Luciana Vale, queen of Corvane, reduced to a fugitive in a bloodstained coat.
For a moment, neither spoke. There was too much history between them and not enough time to bury it.
They rested in an abandoned subway car hours later, using torn maps as blankets. The city above trembled with distant explosions — territory lines being redrawn in gunfire and betrayal.
Luciana sat by the shattered window, staring at the flicker of light filtering through the grates. "When I started this," she said quietly, "I thought power would keep me safe."
Rhea leaned against the metal wall. "And now?"
Luciana's smile was faint, cracked. "Now I just want to survive."
Rhea watched her in the half-light. There was no trace of the ruthless leader anymore — just a woman holding her empire's ghost in her hands. "We'll find a way out," Rhea said.
"Out?" Luciana looked at her. "There's no 'out,' Rhea. We're ghosts now. Corvane doesn't forgive."
Rhea didn't answer. She closed her eyes, but sleep never came. Every time she drifted, she saw flames, faces, Luciana's trembling hands on the gun.
Morning came cold and colorless. Rhea left the tunnels to scout — to find food, fuel, something to keep them moving. The streets above were unrecognizable.
Billboards burned.
Storefronts shattered.
Bodies in alleyways — nameless, faceless.
She found a car near the edge of the district. Tank half full, keys still inside.
When she returned, Luciana was gone.
For a heartbeat, her stomach dropped. Then she saw the note taped to the wall, written in Luciana's sharp, slanted handwriting:
"Don't follow. I have to fix what I broke. – L."
Rhea crumpled it in her fist. "Dammit, Luciana."
She grabbed her gun and left the tunnels, following the only trail that mattered — smoke on the horizon.
Luciana had gone back to where it started: the old glass tower that once bore her name. The building was half-collapsed now, its mirrored walls cracked and scorched, but the top floor still burned with faint light.
By the time Rhea reached it, she was out of breath, soaked, furious.
She found Luciana standing by the window, watching the city she'd once ruled.
"They'll come for you," Rhea said. "You know that."
Luciana turned, eyes hollow. "That's why I'm here."
Rhea stepped closer. "Don't do this."
Luciana smiled sadly. "I started a war I can't end. You shouldn't have to die for my ghosts."
"Stop talking like it's already over."
"It is," Luciana said. "They've taken everything. The trucks, the safehouses, the money. All that's left is me — and you. And I won't let them have you."
Rhea felt something twist in her chest. "You don't get to decide that."
Luciana's eyes softened. "You were always more than what I made you."
The building shuddered as explosions echoed in the distance — the sound of Corvane's final breath.
Rhea stepped closer, voice breaking. "Luciana—"
But before she could finish, the windows shattered — a bullet slicing through the air.
Luciana stumbled.
Blood bloomed against her shirt.
Rhea caught her as she fell.
"No, no, stay with me—"
Luciana smiled faintly, breath trembling. "You… were the only thing I didn't want to lose."
Her hand brushed Rhea's cheek — cold, shaking — and then fell away.
Rhea held her until the sirens grew near. The city outside glowed red — fire, gunfire, the final cost of loyalty.
And as dawn bled over the horizon, Rhea whispered, "Then I'll burn with you."