Later that night, Jackie woke up in a hospital bed. As her eyes slowly opened, the room around her began to sharpen from a blur. A woman stood at the foot of her bed, her attention fixated on the television in the corner of the room.
"With safety protocols in place, residents of Auclair Parish will begin returning to their homes tomorrow morning. Reconstruction efforts are set to begin later in the week once necessary preparations are made," the news anchor reported, her tone light and reassuring. But then, the anchor's voice shifted, the mood of the room darkening.
"On a somber note, we're told that a total of 15 police officers lost their lives today. A memorial service will be held for them one week from now to honor their dedication to serving and protecting the kingdom. All are welcome to attend," she paused, her voice trembling as the weight of her words settled in. "If it's okay with the studio, I'd like to take a moment of silence for our fallen protectors. My younger brother was among them."
In that instant, the entire kingdom seemed to fall into silence. Time seemed to stand still. People watching at home on their televisions, those listening in the streets, all stopped what they were doing. The streets fell quiet, and the hum of life paused to honor the brave souls who had perished fighting the Dread Hunters.
The silence stretched on for 15 seconds—one second for each life lost.
"This is Miranda LaCroix, signing off. Now, back to the studio for the weather update."
Jackie, her hand trembling slightly, reached for the television remote and clicked the screen off.
"What are you doing here, Vale? Or should I call you Governor? Or maybe Mother Nature? Seems like the world's taken to calling you that these days," Jackie said, her tone sharp as she fixed her sight on the woman standing in front of her hospital bed.
"Vale will do," she replied, her voice calm but carrying an unspoken weight. "We've known each other since we were little girls, after all. It'd be strange to stand on ceremony now, don't you think, Jackie?" She paused, almost unsure of how to address her old friend. "As for why I'm here… I thought it was only right to personally thank the officers who risked their lives for the kingdom's safety." Vale's eyes flickered briefly to Jackie's battered form. "Though, I must admit, I'm a bit surprised to find you here."
"They wouldn't have had to fight if you'd handled it yourself," Jackie snapped, wincing as she tried to sit up. The movement pulled at her wounds, making her sharp words even more biting.
Vale's face softened slightly, but she didn't look away. "We both know that isn't my call to make."
"Since when?" Jackie's voice rose in disbelief. "You're the governor of the kingdom. Your word is practically law. Hell, you're a puppet now. I can't believe you let them put you on such a short leash."
"I see you're doing just fine now," Vale remarked with a smile, her tone tinged with a hint of passive annoyance. "I'll be taking my leave then. Oh, and please try to keep your voice down. Whoever is in there is probably trying to recover, just like you should be."
Vale turned toward the curtains that separated Jackie from the bed on the opposite side of the room, giving them a quick scratch as she called out. "If you're awake, we apologize for disturbing you. We'll keep it down."
She waited for a response, but the only sound was the soft vibration of the ventilation system.
Vale's gaze lingered for a moment, her expression flickering with uncertainty. "Please, take the time you need to replenish whatever part of your soul was damaged. The body count from the report caught even me off guard. I had no idea there were so many still out there," she said, her voice softer now, before she turned to leave.
Jackie felt a strange knot form in her stomach, the sense of familiarity pulling at her even before the door clicked shut behind Vale. Without thinking, she pushed herself out of the bed, her body protesting every movement, but her mind too occupied with a nagging feeling to care. The IV pole beside her was her only support as she staggered toward the curtained bed across the room. The steady beep of a heart rate monitor began to grow louder, its rhythmic pulse filling the quiet space with an unnerving cadence.
"Noir? Is that you?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear as she reached for the curtain, her hand shaking.
Peeking through the curtain, Jackie's breath caught in her throat at the sight. Noir was lying unconscious, his body covered in bandages, his face pale and gaunt. Her heart raced as she slowly slid the curtain fully open, stepping closer.
"Noir?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she approached him.
His eyes fluttered open, glazed and unfocused. "Jackie?" His voice was weak, strained, barely above a breath.
"I'm right here, kid," she replied, forcing steadiness into her voice despite the fear gnawing at her. She reached out to gently touch his hand, her fingers tremoring as they brushed against his cold skin.
"Jackie?" Noir mumbled, confusion clouding him as he turned his head in every direction, as if searching for her.
"Noir, I'm here," she reassured him, her heart breaking as she saw the panic in his eyes.
"Jackie!" His voice grew louder, raw with desperation as he tried to push himself up from the bed. His body shook violently, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
"Noir, it's okay," Jackie said urgently, rushing to his side. She placed her hands gently on his shaking body, trying to soothe him, to ground him in the moment.
"Noir, listen to me. It's okay. I'm here," she said, her voice desperate as his cries grew louder.
"Jackie?! Jackie?!" Noir cried out, his voice cracking with fear. "Where are you? It hurts! It–"
Before he could finish, a horrible, strangled sound escaped him. He began vomiting pink, frothy blood, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
Jackie's stomach dropped. "Internal bleeding," she muttered under her breath, her heart slamming in her chest. Without wasting a second, she slammed the emergency button beside his bed.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she sprinted out into the hall, her voice breaking with panic. "Doctor! He's choking on his own blood! Please, someone help!"
Jackie acted on instinct, quickly turning Noir onto his side to allow the blood to drain from his throat. Her fingers worked frantically to sweep the blood from his mouth, clearing his airway just enough to give him a breath of life. It wasn't much, but it was enough—enough to buy him a few extra seconds while they waited for help to arrive.
One of his lungs must've been hit, she thought, her mind racing even as her hands moved on autopilot, wiping away the blood and trying to keep him breathing.
Within seconds, an emergency team burst into the room. "His wounds must've reopened! Get him to the ER!" the lead doctor barked as they quickly wheeled Noir's bed out of the room, working quickly but with precision.
"You hold on, kid. Everything's going to be alright," the nurse said softly to Noir as they rolled him past Jackie.
Jackie stood frozen, her heart still pounding in her chest as her hands quivered at her sides. Her mind felt like it was in a fog, disconnected from the scene playing out before her. She'd done what she could—she'd saved him for now—but the weight of what had just happened hit her like a tidal wave.
The nurse who had stayed behind gave Jackie a moment before speaking, her voice full of admiration and awe. "That was impressive, Ms. O'Hara. Where did you learn that?"
Jackie blinked, her daze lifting as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Ms. O'Hara?" the nurse pressed gently.
Jackie snapped out of it, her stare falling to the floor as she muttered, "Yes?" She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus, her voice quiet. "Oh… I saw a retired nurse do it in another kingdom once. Just something I picked up through the years, thankfully."
"Well, you should be proud. You gave him those extra moments he needed. Meteor Kingdom might not be as advanced as other kingdoms when it comes to smart infrastructure, but when it comes to medical advancements, we make every note count. He'll be just fine."
"Yeah, he's a fighter, that one," Jackie murmured, her voice barely audible as her thoughts drifted.
His nerves must be through the roof right now, Jackie thought. Not only does the Liability's Accord prevent someone from being physically wounded, but it also shuts down all their pain receptors. He went missing when he was just six years old, so that's probably where his tolerance is. Those types of wounds would be fatal to anyone, so his chances of survival…
Frustration bubbled up within her. No, it's happening again. I'm letting them down again. Her hands clenched in her hair, the overwhelming guilt threatening to consume her. I should've been there for Mona. I let Noir get hurt. I should've been more strict with my father. Dad, what do I do? The panic swelled inside her chest, and without realizing it, the words slipped from her lips in a whisper. "What do I do?"
Before Jackie could pull herself together, she felt a soft, comforting embrace from behind. The nurse, calm and steady, wrapped her arms around Jackie in a gentle, supportive hold.
"That's an easy question to answer, Ms. O'Hara. Simply put, you be strong," the nurse said softly, her voice soothing as she lightly stroked Jackie's hair. She might not have known everything Jackie was struggling with, but she could sense that something was eating away at her. "We don't often see cases as severe as your son's, but one thing is certain—the ones being treated are fighting the hardest battle. As their support, we must be just as strong. As far as they're willing to go, we must be willing to accommodate them. We may share the journey, but it's them doing the real fighting. So, it's our duty to never give up on them, no matter how difficult it gets."
Jackie remained silent for a long moment, a tear slipping down her cheek as she absorbed the nurse's words. She parted her lips, her voice a fragile acknowledgment. "Well put."
IN THE HEART OF MILLE DAN SWAMP, WHERE THE AIR WAS THICK WITH THE SCENT OF wet earth and decay, a woman clad in black robes approached a solitary figure. The one-armed man, dressed in a finely cut suit, stood tall despite the limp of his empty sleeve.
"Ma'am, what can I do for you?" The man spoke with measured respect, lowering himself to one knee.
The woman's glare was unwavering as she stepped closer, her presence commanding. Without a word, she grasped his hand, helping him rise to his feet. As she carefully peeled off the mask that concealed his identity, her voice echoed with quiet authority.
"With the remaining Dread Hunters gone, your role as The Marketeer has come to an end." She let the weight of her words settle in the air before continuing, "Now, we can begin the next phase of my plan, Wayfe."
Wayfe's eyes glinted with understanding, his face betraying no emotion as he bowed his head slightly. "Yes, Madame Cyllene. I'm honored to be back in your direct service."