He stood still as the rain came down, face tilted toward the sky, eyes open.
But he didn't feel wet.
Didn't feel anything.
Matthew Crane had been released two hours ago.
No lock was turned. No order given. The door just opened.
And he walked out like a man stepping out of a dream.
Now he stood across the street from the warehouse, watching Leon vanish into the smoke.
He could hear the voices in his head still.
Only one of them was his.
> "You see now, don't you?"
"Redemption is just the lie we tell the dying."
"But you're not dying anymore."
His hands shook.
But not from fear.
From something else.
Something sharper.
Clarity.
When the shooting started, he didn't run. He didn't scream.
He watched. Still, silent, untouched in the middle of the chaos.
Aaron tried to grab him before the trap sprung. Screamed his name.
That name didn't fit anymore.
Because Bishop had shown him.
What it meant to be free.
Not from pain.
From guilt.
And now Aaron was gone. And Leon was next.
Matthew's fingers curled.
He could still feel the weight of the scalpel Bishop placed in his hand. Still see the look on that man's face when he used it.
The silence. The surrender.
And that moment—that exact second—when he realized he didn't want forgiveness.
He wanted control.
He was out now.
But not free.
Not yet.
That came next.