Vora and Klev watched the execution take place on their MP, just like all of Ruth. Vora held onto Klev like a life preserver. She held on her father's words like she needed them to breathe.

“The most important thing…”

Rudolf Snihde broke into a smile, then laughter, and after confusion, Madeline joined with her sly grin.

“We love you,” Madeline said. “I knew. And I was always there if you needed me.”

Vora's eyes spewed salty streams. She knew. Why didn't she say anything?

“Don’t be too boring,” Rudolf chuckled.

As the microphone was taken away, everyone was baffled about what the heretics were on about. Only those in the Bekkan household knew.

“Father. Mother.”

The camera went on the imposing Maiden Sympha. Her golden eyes shined while she commanded everything with a sparking wave that snuffed every flame for blocks.

“Following this heretic’s death will be a great purge,” Sympha announced with a sour face. “Starting with O’Landra, every Dowser will be found and turned to ash. By God’s will.”

The Burning Bell slammed its clapper against itself, sparking the sky bright amber. It could be first heard on the MP, then shortly after, it shook White Hill.

The sky blackened, cinders fell, and only the Bell could be seen. Madeline and Rudolf embraced without a drop of regret. Shortly after, a beam of red fire crashed down on the couple like a meteor, splashing flames against Sympha’s unmeltable chilling stare.

Klev could see the red of the flame outside in the way distance coming from the Burning Bell. Darkness returned, then the sky's blue, then black snow fell. There was nothing but ash left on the stage, and even some stone liquefied. Vora buried her tears into Klev’s chest, and he hugged her, staring blankly at the screen.

“Was I selfish to give up my magic? I could have saved them. I was powerful, and if I made myself whole, unstoppable.” Vora peered upward at Klev, sparkling eyes. “They would all be alive; I could’ve protected everything I love.”

“I don’t know the answer,” Klev said sadly but sincerely. “But I know that your parents were proud of who you are. Darcie, Maive, and Crowdon loved this Vora, not the strength of the witch. I’ve seen both sides of you, and I know that if you gave into the Eoa, I would have lost the Vora I love.”

Vora cried into Klev’s chest for what felt like a painful eternity.

***

After the execution, chains burst from the ground like growing vines at O’Landra’s border. They weaved with each other and ended the sky, making a brass dome cage around the nation’s capital. It was scorching to the touch and covered with spikes. Even those faithful to the church panicked or reclused in fear at the might of God, and their sweet Maiden Sympha no longer oozed motherly love.

Tricia, Bernard, and Ten watched as their home was swallowed by the brass prison. Tricia held Bernard’s hand with watery eyes, and he just stared daggers at the MP screen.

“We can never go back to the flower shop. It must be devastating for you, Tricia stated. She put a hand over her lips. “You’ve had it for eons.”

“It’s just a stupid flower shop. I won’t miss it,” Bernard grunted, internally combating sorrow.

“We lost a great man today,” Ten said. He snapped open a pocket watch, absorbed the time, then clicked it shut. “Imperfect, but great. As we all are.”

“Who knew it was Snihde’s dad the whole time,” Benard said. “Small world. I know why she was so annoying to deal with.”

“What’s the plan now, Zero?” Tricia teased as the three walked away from the MP.

Because of his high-tear strategies, Ten was given the position of Zero. He already had dozens of plans in his head, with dozens of backup plans for each of those plans.

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“You’ll see. Don’t be impatient. Always impatient, Seven. Bouncing around. You make me tired.”

“Thank you,” Bernard agreed. He nudged Tricia and pointed at Ten. “He agrees.”

“Jackass,” Tricia hissed.

The three entered a room where the other Drowned sat around and leaned against walls. They perked up and followed closely, traversing through more doors and a hallway before bursting outside into the night.

There were thousands of masked individuals in this forgotten quartz quarry. Dozens of makeshift buildings of wood and steel dotted the area like a comfy community. Where the Ten Drowned emerged was a building on top of the quarry that oversaw those below. The scattered chatter died when Zero stood before a microphone on a stage.

Before the new Zero spoke a word, he grasped his mask, removed it, and dropped it down below. Shock stole the area as it bounced off a stone with a clack. Their great leader was an ordinary man with average looks, but he had attractive eyes.

“I feel a mask is no longer necessary,” he explained. “I have nothing more to hide.”

Bernard brought his fingertips to his mask. Tricia eeped and snatched his wrist, stopping his progress.

“What are you doing?” she whispered with panic.

“Being an example.”

Tricia parted her lips and softened her grip. Bernard tossed his mask, drew his revolver, and shot it to dust above everyone’s heads. Tricia followed her husband and revealed her pretty face. It wasn’t long before all the Drowned had shed their numbers and shown their true selves.

“We are no longer hiding ourselves. Everyone here has four weeks to get into their positions. The bombs must reach the Burning Bell’s chains, and it will cost us lives. If you wish to leave now, leave your mask on and depart from here. I will not judge you; I know you prioritize your loved ones. Those who wish to fight for a future without the demon in the sky, reveal your faces and show humanity.”

The falling of thousands of masks to the stone below sounded like popcorn, and those hidden faces were revealed. Everyday people: old, young, and in between.

“That’s a lot of masks,” Tricia said stupidly.

Usually, Bernard would have given her crap for such a statement, but instead, he kissed her and stated factually, “I adore how dumb you are.”

“Thanks?” Tricia grinned awkwardly.

***

Little did his mother know, Hasmed watched over the church where the meeting would occur. He was invisible, gripping a treetop as the masked man approached and vanished below into the building of marble.

She’ll be fine. I’m just here to observe. I’ll be bored to death, I imagine.

A burst of reddish smoke blasted out of the church’s every pore, startling Hasmed to the point of nearly falling. Then, the marble structure exploded, knocking Hasmed’s face to the grass.

His mother’s wings were tarnished, and Zero pointed a red spike at her. A pipe held by his lips released the red smoke, covering the field. The lives of all Chimes aside from Maiden Sympha were wiped away, skewered, and tossed aside.

Hasmed stood, refraining from interfering as the smoke wrapped around Sympha, and she was pierced through the heart, spraying rusted blood on the moonlit grass and broken marble.

Sympha’s life was snuffed out, but she regenerated quickly after. This exchange happened many times until the Maiden caught the Dowser by skewering his body with chains.

The man was not defeated, though. He had a wicked fire in his eye as he dropped two red, clicking spheres to the ground. Neither Hasmed nor his mother could escape the crimson blast in time.

Hasmed survived, but he was knocked unconscious for several minutes. When he awoke, the chains on his face had already rusted to dust. Nausea hit, and Hasmed spewed some soup from earlier.

Then, the Dowser held two glowing orbs and dropped them at his feet. Hasmed tried to make his body ethereal to avoid the blast, but he wasn’t fast enough and got knocked out for several minutes.

Hasmed’s face was no longer obscured by chains as they had rusted to dust in the wind. Though he felt disoriented and sick to his stomach, he was otherwise unharmed. Thanks to his father's half, Hasmed was highly resistant to Fallite, but the red variant was as strong as a speeding HC.

He got to his feet and held his head. His eyes widened. The man was gone, and his mother was dust. She was gone, and the golden flames of rebirth were not present.

“Mom!? Dammit!”

Suddenly, the golden fire of an Ascended’s resurrection formed in the night air. Hasmed was hopeful but frowned when the flame turned blue and dimmed out. This happened several times, like an ignition failing to start an engine.

“She can’t come back.”

Where the golden flames failed, silver and white fire blew apart the air like a bomb, and Sympha formed from within, her eyes black and orange.

“She’s alive,” Hasmed smiled, relieved. “And she’s pissed.”

Sympha divine-stepped away. Hasmed became invisible and undetectable and followed his mother’s divinity.

***

The son arrived a bit behind his mother in the Snihde household. He listened and watched quietly until he finally heard the information he had sought for years.

Vora Snihde is the butterfly witch.

As soon as the commotion in the house vanished, Hasmed emerged from his veil and started searching the entire house, room by room, in a frantic attempt to locate the witch Vora. His heart raced with worry and irritation as he scoured every nook and cranny, hoping to find clues to her whereabouts.

As the leader of the Dowsers, Rudolf was a god of covering tracks. Any traces connecting the Snihdes to Vora Bekkan were scrubbed clean. And most of the people who did know where she lived had sadly died or moved on.

Frustrated, Hasmed slapped his palm against the wall, and fire spread from his fingertips. The snakes of fire traveled the walls and ceilings and consumed the house. Hasmed stood and pondered as the building burned and collapsed around him.