Marcus sat in the Canadian Sanctuary's medical wing. They were fitting him with a prosthetic arm. Replacing the one he lost in the battle.
Jenna sat beside him. Holding his remaining hand.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Only when I think about how I lost it. About who we lost."
"Viktor?"
"Viktor. And fifty-two others. I led them into a battle we could not win. Got them killed."
"You saved the children. Saved the future."
"Did I? Or did I just prolong the inevitable? The Division is still hunting us. Still killing us. Nothing has changed."
Jenna squeezed his hand. "Everything has changed. We exposed Vale. Turned public opinion. Made the Division accountable. That is something."
Marcus was not convinced. He had been fighting this war for seven years. Had lost too many people. Had seen
