Chapter 7

We collapsed onto the stone floor of the shrine.

Blood—dark, hot, vital—pooled beneath him, mixing with the ash.

"Lang," I sobbed, holding his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He struggled to breathe. His hand came up, stained with red, and touched my cheek.

"It's okay," he whispered. "The heat... is finally breaking."

Thunder rumbled overhead. Not the spiritual thunder of the Order, but real thunder.

A drop of rain hit my face. Then another. Then a deluge.

The summer storm broke. The oppressive, stifling humidity vanished in an instant, washed away by the cold rain.

Lang’s eyes drifted shut. The chest that had saved a bus full of people stopped moving.

The energy leaving his body wasn't dark. It wasn't demonic. It was golden light, rising up into the rain, joining the wind.

"Executor Wei!"

The temple doors burst open. Elder Zhang stood there, flanked by a dozen Enforcers in tactical gear. Their weapons were glowing, ready for war.

They stopped when they saw us.

They saw the dead monster. They saw the Executor kneeling in the blood, the deed done.

"Target neutralized," Elder Zhang announced, lowering his staff. He walked over and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Excellent work, Wei. A perfect kill. You saved the mountain."

I looked at the Elder. I looked at his smiling, proud face.

Then I looked at Lang.

I felt the hole in the center of my chest, wider and deeper than the one I had put in him.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice dead. "I saved it."

I stood up. The rain soaked my ceremonial robes, weighing me down. The sound of the cicadas had stopped. The silence was deafening.

I had maintained my righteousness. I had upheld the Code. I was a hero of the Jade Order.

I walked past the Elders, down the steps, into the cold, dark rain.

I was the perfect Executor. And I would never be human again.