The gun was cold against Marcus's temple.
Nolan's finger was on the trigger.
Not shaking.
Not trembling.
Steady.
Controlled.
Deadly.
Isabella stood frozen, heart slamming so violently she could barely breathe.
"Nolan…" she whispered.
Marcus laughed weakly.
"You won't," he said.
Nolan leaned closer.
"You still don't understand," he said quietly.
Marcus smirked. "You need me alive."
"No," Nolan replied. "I needed you alive."
Marcus blinked.
Nolan's eyes were empty.
"I don't anymore."
Isabella's breath caught.
"Nolan," she said again, louder this time. "Look at me."
He didn't.
Marcus exhaled shakily. "You kill me, and you become me."
Nolan smiled faintly.
"No," he said. "I become free."
Isabella stepped forward.
"No," she said. "You become alone."
That stopped him.
Just barely.
His grip tightened.
But he didn't pull the trigger.
Yet.
Marcus laughed.
"See?" he said. "She still owns you."
Nolan turned his head slightly.
Isabella was crying.
Not hysterical.
Not breaking.
Just… quietly devastated.
"You promised you'd come back to me," she whispered.
He swallowed.
"I did."
"Then don't disappear into this," she said.
Marcus scoffed. "You think love saves you?"
Isabella didn't look at Marcus.
She only looked at Nolan.
"I didn't walk into hell for you to become it," she whispered.
Something cracked.
Just a little.
Nolan's jaw clenched.
Marcus leaned forward, sensing it.
"She will never see you the same," Marcus said softly. "Pull that trigger and you lose her."
Nolan exhaled.
Long.
Slow.
Then—
He pressed the gun harder against Marcus's head.
"You already lost," Nolan said.
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
Nolan smiled faintly.
"You taught me how to dismantle monsters."
Marcus's eyes widened.
And then—
Gunshots exploded.
Not from Nolan.
From behind.
Marcus screamed.
Blood sprayed.
His body jerked violently.
Nolan turned—
Nathan stood in the doorway.
Gun raised.
Smoking.
Marcus collapsed to the floor, clutching his side, screaming.
Isabella gasped.
"Nathan—!"
Nathan didn't look at her.
Didn't look at Nolan.
He stared at Marcus.
Breathing hard.
"I don't kill," Nathan said.
"But I end things."
Marcus writhed on the floor.
Laughing through blood.
"Oh," he gasped. "That's worse."
Nolan lowered his gun slowly.
His hands were shaking now.
Not with fear.
With release.
Isabella ran to him.
Wrapped her arms around him.
Held him like he might disappear.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time in days—
He felt.
Marcus was taken.
Alive.
Bleeding.
Laughing.
But broken.
Not victorious.
Not in control.
For the first time—
Power had left him.
Later.
Silence.
Sirens in the distance.
Isabella sat on the floor, leaning against Nolan.
Her head on his shoulder.
"I thought you were going to kill him," she whispered.
"I thought I needed to," he said.
She looked up.
"And now?"
"I needed to survive him," he replied.
She nodded.
"I meant what I said," she whispered. "I never chose him."
He turned his head slightly.
"I know."
She blinked. "How?"
"Because you said it like a lie that was killing you," he said.
Tears slid down her cheeks.
"I had to."
"I know."
She pressed her forehead to his.
"I won't do that again."
"Good," he whispered.
"Because I wouldn't survive hearing it twice."
Nathan approached.
"He's secured," he said.
Nolan nodded.
"What happens now?" Isabella asked.
Nathan exhaled.
"Now," he said, "the world catches up to what you've been living."
But far away…
Marcus lay on a hospital bed.
Smiling.
Bleeding.
Alive.
And still dangerous.
He whispered to himself:
"This isn't over."