ALLIANCE CAPITAL - THREE DAYS AFTER RETURN - MEMORIAL SERVICE
"We gather today to honor the fallen."
I stood before three hundred mourners. Reading names. LYING to their families.
"Marcus Thorne. Thomas Whitfield. Elena Vasquez. Jacob Stone..."
Ten names. Ten people who'd trusted me. Followed me into the Northern Glaciers. DIED because I'd led them into an Eternal Grove ambush.
And I was calling it an AVALANCHE.
"They gave their lives in service to the Alliance. In pursuit of KNOWLEDGE. Of protection. They will not be FORGOTTEN."
The families wept. Clutched each other. GRIEVED.
I felt like a MONSTER.
Through my severed connection—I felt NOTHING. No shared guilt. No collective burden. Just ME. Alone with the lies. The WEIGHT.
After the service, Marcus Thorne's widow approached. ELDERLY. Dignified. Eyes red from crying.
"Duke Valerius," she said quietly. "Thank you for bringing my husband HOME. For—for honoring him."
