Jackelin spoke the forbidden words her mother taught her as a failsafe. Her voice cracked as the incantation reached its end, the syllables echoing faintly in the damp, fog-laden air. Some phantoms drifted away. Some lingered briefly, their gazes heavy with sorrow or faint gratitude before they turned and vanished into the unseen. Others faded without a glance back, slipping between the cracks of the world.

And still, Jackelin knelt there, hollow, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her hands trembled as she clutched the warm, tear-wet stone beneath her. The weight of her phantoms’ absence crushed her, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating void where her brother had been just a moment before.

Jack’s ashes were little more than a smear on the cobblestones, the faint trace of his existence a cruel reminder of the finality of the female angel’s fire and lightning.

Jackelin’s gaze locked on the spot, her vision blurring with tears burning against her skin. He was gone. Not just dead—gone! Destroyed! His soul obliterated, his phantoms scattered into nothingness!

There was no grave, no lingering echo of Jack Blackwood in this world or the next.

Her voice broke through the silence, low and trembling. “You... destroyed him… you… bitch.”

The golden-armoured angel stood motionless, her radiant gaze fixed on Jackelin. “He had no path forward,” she said, her voice calm, unyielding. “His soul was beyond redemption.”

Jackelin surged to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides, her whole body shaking. “You don’t get to decide that!” she screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief. “He was my brother! He was mine!”

The angel didn’t flinch. “He was consumed by his rage. His choices bound him to his darkness. There was nothing left to save.”

“You don’t know that!” Jackelin shouted, stepping closer, her face contorted with fury. “You didn’t even try! You didn’t give him a chance—you just took him!”

“I gave him release,” the angel said, her tone quiet but firm. “It was a mercy.”

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“Mercy?!” Jackelin’s voice was shrill, incredulous. She let out a bitter laugh, her hands rising to press against her temples as if to keep her thoughts from splintering. “You call erasing him mercy?! Destroying his soul?! His phantoms?! Everything he was?! That’s not mercy—that’s annihilation!”

The angel’s golden eyes softened, but her expression didn’t waver. “It is release from suffering.”

Jackelin shook her head violently, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “You don’t understand!” she shouted. “He was all I had. The only one who—who understood. Who stayed. And now—” Her words faltered, her chest heaving as the tears came harder, her rage breaking against the unrelenting tide of her grief. “Now he’s gone!”

The angel stepped forward, her light brushing against Jackelin like the edge of a sunrise. “You do not have to carry this pain, Jackelin. You can let it go.”

Jackelin looked up sharply, her eyes bloodshot and blazing. “Let it go?!” she hissed. “You want me to let it go, don’t you? So I can just… disappear? Like him?!”

The angel’s voice was steady, almost gentle. “You can choose freedom. Release.”

Jackelin barked out a harsh laugh, her hands dropping to her sides. “Freedom. Release. You mean death, don’t you? A ‘mercy kill,’ like you gave him.”

The angel inclined her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “It is the only mercy I can offer.”

“Then I don’t want it,” Jackelin snapped, her voice filled with venom. “I’m not like him. I’m not going to let you decide my fate.”

The angel paused, the faintest flicker of something–perhaps regret–crossing her features. “You cannot continue on this path.”

“That’s not your choice,” Jackelin said, her voice a low growl. “You’ve taken enough from me. I’m not giving you anything else.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, the air thick with Jackelin’s defiance and the angel’s quiet resolve. Then the angel stepped closer, her sword glowing faintly as she drew it.

“Your suffering is too great,” the angel said, her voice softer now, almost mournful. “I will not let it consume you.”

Jackelin’s eyes widened, and she took a stumbling step back. “No,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “No, you don’t get to—”

The angel moved faster than Jackelin could react. Her sword descended in a single, fluid arc, golden light spilling through the alley as it struck. Jackelin gasped, her body stiffening for an instant before the warmth of the sword swept over her, cradling her like a lullaby. There was no pain, only a profound stillness as her vision blurred and her body began to dissolve.

Her last thought, burning bright and bitter, was of Jack.