Page 109 of Veil of Smoke

The room behind us is wrecked—wires cut, crates overturned. But not all of it is dead. Some of it still pulses. Some of it still holds names, transactions, routes, records.

Proof.

Evidence.

Chains.

I walk to the last row of intel crates. My ribs scream with each step. My hand trembles as I pull the lighter from my coat pocket.

“Once we do this,” I say, not looking back at her, “there’s no Caldera left to hide from. Not even in name.”

She doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t have to.

The flame flicks alive with one strike. I drop it into the bundle of shredded files.

It catches instantly.

Blue fire first. Then gold. Then black smoke coils like serpents through the beams.

Papers curl. Names vanish. The last of their network dies screaming.

Sirens echo in the distance.

They’re still faint—but they’re coming. Law or syndicate, it doesn’t matter. They’ll find ruin when they arrive.

Let them.

Let them count the bodies and burn marks and wonder who lit the match.

Enrico’s body lies sprawled near the edge of the stage. Blood pools beneath him. The conductor’s stand is bent. The tech screen behind it has gone dark.

I stare at it.

Not for guilt. Not for satisfaction.

Just to remember.

Viviana’s beside me now, hand pressed to her side, coat billowing as the breeze from the shattered windows pushes through.

The smoke rises.

We don’t move.

We stand in the wreckage, flame reflecting in her eyes. The heat presses into our backs. My knuckles throb. Her lips part like she wants to say something—but she doesn’t.

She doesn’t need to.

Because it’s done.

Chapter 27 – Viviana

I lean over the bridge railing, my hoodie tugged tight around my scraped arms. The Chicago skyline peeks through low smoke, jagged and hazy in the early morning light.

Sunrise cuts through the gray, gold streaking the slate clouds. Cool wind off the river brushes my face, carrying the damp bite of last night’s rain and a faint sting of ash.

Smoke curls up from the lower districts, Caldera’s last embers fading slow. The city wakes below, sluggish, sirens long gone, just a distant hum now.

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