The rooftop terrace was open tonight, the cold, clean air a sharp contrast to the warmth inside the fortress. We stood side-by-side at the railing, looking out over the silent sprawl of the city that now, thanks to the Alliance, moved to our rhythm.

Vladimir had a glass of vodka, untouched. I held my wine, feeling the cool glass against my palm. The stillness of the night invited reflection, and tonight, we needed to talk about the shadows that still lingered.

“The reports from Viktor on ...