The Endless Balance of an Ancient Sorrow Volume 1 CG Chapter 3 Millana Kalako, the relentless hunter

 Copyright © 2025 by Ryan Melrose 

 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author. 

This is a work of fiction. 

 All names, characters, places, organizations, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, real-world locations, corporations, or institutions is entirely coincidental. If you genuinely believe any character in this book is secretly based on you, you might be reading a bit too deep—or just hunting for a payout. Either way, this story isn’t about you. Maybe talk to someone about that. 

This is the first publication, written and illustrated by Ryan Melrose, and published in Australia. 

The Endless Balance of an Ancient Sorrow Gavern Codex (GC) Volume 1 

 CHAPTER 3 

Millana Kalako: The relentless Hunter 

  

Millana paced in her apartment, arms crossed, staring at the scattered articles and notes across her desk. 

Her eyes landed on the latest headline. 

"Mysterious Unknown Figure Strikes Again – Criminal Found Dead in Fraid City’s Slums." 

She groaned. 

"Tch. No name, no identity—just another vague sighting." 

She flicked the paper aside, muttering under her breath. 

"Whatever. It’s not like I needed his help that night." 

She shadow-boxed the air, throwing sharp kicks, imagining herself dealing with those creeps alone. 

But despite her pride, the memory resurfaced. 

That cape, the glow, the power in the air when the figure appeared. 

She scowled. 

"Fine." 

Her hands gripped the desk, her determination hardening. 

"If no one knows who he is..." 

Her eyes gleamed. 

"...then I’ll be the one to find out." 

Millana smirked, eyes gleaming with fiery determination, flipping her school bag over her shoulder. 

"I know the best investigators in the city can help me." 

She tightened the strap, stepping into the morning rush of Fraid City, where the air buzzed with energy, alive with the hum of urban life—vendors calling out prices, steam curling from street stalls, car horns pressing impatiently against traffic. 

The skyscrapers loomed overhead, casting long shadows into the side streets, where secrets always thrived, where mysteries hid in the concrete veins of the city. 

 

 

 

 

Millana marched on, moving fast, threading through the busy sidewalks, passing newsstands, catching a glimpse of the latest headline. "Mysterious Unknown Figure Strikes Again – Criminal Found Dead in Fraid City’s Slums." She scoffed. She pushed forward. Because she was going to find him. And the best place to start? Palladium Academy—the most elite school in Fraid City, where only the truly exceptional were admitted. If you got in, you had to be extraordinary to get in. And while Millana never thought much of it, she was extraordinary. A fact that would soon become painfully clear as she stepped through the grand archway of the academy. Marble floors polished to a mirror sheen, towering pillars framing the halls, massive windows allowing streams of morning light to cascade through the space. Palladium was money, power, and intelligence wrapped into one. And then—there was Tellai Hughes. A blur of energy. Golden-haired, Pigtails, relentlessly enthusiastic, practically vibrating with excitement, the moment she spotted Millana, she launched herself forward, nearly tackling her in a hug. "Milly! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Guess what?!" Millana jerked back, barely holding herself steady. "Tellai—STOP POUNCING!" Tellai ignored her completely, gripping her arms with the manic strength of a caffeine-fueled detective on a mission. "The vigilante, Milly! Someone saw him again! It’s happening!" Millana sighed, peeling Tellai off her. "You mean you heard it on the news." Tellai puffed out her cheeks, frustrated. "Okay, BUT—we can totally find him ourselves! Detective Kalako, and Hughes are on the case!" Before Millana could roll her eyes, the presence of pure chaos entered the scene. Carol Hanaman. Elegant. Chestnut-haired, effortlessly graceful, always leaving a trail of lovesick victims in her wake. The moment she walked through the halls, the boys collapsed into absolute devotion—one kid tripping over himself to offer to carry her books, another spilling his drink on the floor and throwing himself onto the mess, just so she wouldn’t slip. Carol stepped onto the boy’s back like royalty, offering him the sweetest, most radiant smile. "Why, thank you, darling. So very kind of you." The boy wheezed in pain. "A-anything for you, C-Carol..." Millana exhaled sharply. "Pathetic." Carol turned to her, smirking knowingly, eyes gleaming with playful superiority. "Milly, darling. I heard you’re searching for the mystery man." Millana tensed. There it was—the competitive fire between them flaring instantly. "And what of it?" Carol flipped her hair effortlessly, smiling. "Oh, nothing. Just that I plan to find him first." Tellai gasped dramatically, eyes sparkling with excitement. "OHHHH, A RACE?! This is the best day ever!" Carol tilted her chin up, radiating confidence. "With my charm, and natural intuition, I’ll uncover his identity long before you." Millana crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "This isn’t a competition." Carol smiled. "Oh, but it is now, darling." Millana gritted her teeth. Tellai squealed with absolute joy, practically bouncing on her feet. "YES! I LOVE THIS ENERGY! We’ll make history, Milly!" Millana crossed her arms, her expression hardening with competitive energy, eyes gleaming with defiance as she turned to Tellai. "That Carol thinks she’s so smart, flaunting her intuition, acting like she’s going to solve some great mystery before me." She scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Please. I actually encountered the Vigilante. I saw him. I know what he looks like, and more importantly, I know the kinds of places he lurks." Tellai’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "You totally did, Milly! That means we have an advantage!" Millana nodded firmly, lips curving into a smirk. "Exactly. Carol has nothing—nothing! She’s just grasping at straws, thinking her charm and social tricks will magically get her answers." She leaned forward, voice lowering like she was laying out a war strategy. "But me? I have facts. Real leads. A direction to go." She tightened her grip on her bag strap, as if the weight of the mission was hers alone to bear. "I refuse to let that smug vigilante slip away before I find him myself." Tellai clapped her hands. "Ohhh, YES! We’re totally going to track him down, Milly!" Millana gritted her teeth, cheeks heating slightly, her determination shifting into something fiercer—something more personal. "And when I do..." She paused, exhaling sharply, eyes flashing. "I’m kicking him in his stupid, smug mouth for thinking I needed to be rescued!" Tellai gasped dramatically. "Milly! That’s so violent!" Millana huffed, turning away, trying to mask the mix of frustration and lingering grudging respect for the unknown vigilante. "I didn’t need saving! I had everything under control! Probably. Maybe. Look, that’s not the point!" Tellai snickered. "Whatever you say, Milly~" Millana whipped around. "I mean it!" The sharp ring of the school bell echoed through the halls, cutting through the usual morning chatter like a command. A crackling voice came through the intercom system, formal yet firm. "All students must report to the auditorium immediately." Millana sighed. Another mandatory assembly. She slung her bag over her shoulder, stepping into the flow of students making their way toward the grand hall, moving in waves through the polished corridors. Inside the massive auditorium, rows of seats quickly filled, the hum of conversation lingering as students waited for whatever boring lecture was about to happen. 2 And then—Frank Gavern stepped onto the stage. The murmurs quieted instantly. Millana’s eyes flicked up, her interest suddenly spiking. Millana sat in the grand auditorium of Palladium Academy, arms crossed, resting her chin in her palm, staring toward the stage with mild disinterest. The school assembly was mandatory, as usual. And like every assembly, it had all the expected elements—the academy’s Headmaster Hugo Transyn a man with long blond hair wearing a purple and gold robe like he’s some kind of holy man or something. However, he behaved like a typical headmaster droning on about excellence, the usual school pride speeches, the long-winded introduction before the guest speaker appeared. But when Frank Gavern stepped onto the stage. Millana’s eyes flicked up. She wasn’t sure why, but something about him instantly pulled her attention. After the headmaster of Palladium Academy introduced FCPD’s youngest detective Frank adjusted the microphone, scanning the sea of students before finally speaking. "Being a detective is not just about chasing criminals and wearing a badge." His voice was measured, calm, yet sharp, carrying through the auditorium like every word mattered. "It’s about understanding human nature. Crime isn’t just an action—it’s a series of choices, a culmination of decisions, a story unfolding before us." Millana straightened slightly, listening more intently. Frank continued, pacing slightly, hands relaxed yet deliberate in how he gestured. "Every crime scene tells a story—who was there, what happened, why it happened. But the trick is seeing what there isn’t. What’s missing. What doesn’t belong." He turned, scanning the students, his gaze cutting through the crowd. "Most people only see evidence. Detectives see intent. We look beyond what’s given. The knife left behind, the misplaced object, the one detail that seems wrong. That’s where the real truth hides." A murmur spread through the auditorium. Even Millana felt the weight of his words settling in her mind. If she wanted to find the mystic vigilante, she needed to think like that—to see what wasn’t obvious, to look outside the box, beyond what was given. Frank sighed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, his tone shifting as he got to the next part of his lecture. "The academy wants me to give you kids a project." A collective groan rippled through the students. Frank smirked faintly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to." A few students chuckled. He held up a folder of articles, flipping through them briefly before continuing. "You’ve all heard about the ‘mystic vigilante’—the unknown figure taking out criminals across Fraid City. That’s your assignment today. Based on the reports, the sightings, and the evidence we have, you’ll build a profile. Who he is. What kind of person does this. And why." The students perked up—some intrigued, some skeptical, some already flipping through their papers. Frank scanned the room—until his eyes landed on Millana. Recognition flashed across his features. That was her. The girl he rescued that night. And Millana? She was staring at him. Not because she recognized him—no, his face wasn’t familiar, nothing about him stood out as distinctively memorable. But something about him felt… Warm. She couldn’t place it. An undeniable feeling. An echo of familiarity she didn’t understand. Tellai leaned in way too close, whispering mischievously in her ear. "See something you like, Milly?" Millana jumped slightly, glaring. "What?! No!" Tellai grinned. "He’s quite dreamy, isn’t he? All mysterious, sharp-eyed, broody detective vibes? I’d say that’s a solid crush right there." Millana flushed, scowling. "Shut up, Tellai!" Tellai snickered, thoroughly enjoying herself. Millana crossed her arms tightly, forcing herself to refocus, ignoring the unexplainable feeling settling in her chest. Because this wasn’t about Frank. This was about the vigilante. And now—she had everything she needed to begin her hunt for him. The school project was in full swing, groups scattered across the auditorium, papers spread out, voices buzzing with theories about the mystic vigilante. Millana and Tellai sat with the school newspaper crew, the very people Millana had planned to recruit for her real investigation into Sorrow. Yes—these were the best investigators she had spoken of. The next generation of investigative journalism. And among them—were the twin reporters, known across Palladium Academy for their uncanny ability to solve puzzles… and their constant, ridiculous arguing. Theo and Leo Whitacus. Identical in every way—except for their opinions, which were never the same. Theo adjusted his glasses, flipping through the scattered articles on the vigilante. "Clearly, this figure is a highly trained operative, possibly ex-military, using advanced technology disguised as sorcery." Leo scoffed, crossing his arms. "Ridiculous. If he were ex-military, he wouldn’t be operating alone. He’d have a team, a network, a chain of command." Theo rolled his eyes. "Not necessarily. Lone operatives exist. Ever heard of rogue agents?" Leo leaned forward, jabbing a finger at the paper. "Ever heard of common sense? If he were military, he wouldn’t be wasting time on petty criminals!" Theo huffed, flipping a page dramatically. "Oh, and what’s your brilliant theory, then?" Leo smirked. "Simple. He’s an alien." Theo froze, staring at him. "You’re joking." Leo shrugged. "Think about it! He came from the sky, right? He uses abilities no human should have. What if he’s an extraterrestrial warrior sent to Earth to cleanse crime?" Theo rubbed his temples, exhaling sharply. "I refuse to entertain this nonsense." Tellai burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "Ohhh, I love this theory! Space vigilante! Maybe he’s from a secret galactic police force!" Millana sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We’re supposed to be serious." Leo grinned. "I am serious." Theo groaned. "You are not serious." Millana ignored them, leaning forward, her expression sharpening. "Listen. I actually encountered him." The group quieted instantly, eyes locking onto her. Millana continued, her voice steady. "He came from the sky. With a single spell, he had hardened criminals—men who were ready to mug me, possibly worse—crying, repenting, begging for mercy." She tapped the paper in front of her. "That’s not just a thrill-seeking vigilante. That’s not someone doing this for fun or even because it’s the right thing to do." Her eyes narrowed. "It’s like he has a mission. Something deep. Something compelling. A purpose no one can figure out." The group absorbed her words, the weight of them settling in. Theo adjusted his glasses. "That’s… interesting." Leo nodded. "So, you’re saying he’s not just fighting crime—he’s driven by something bigger?" Millana nodded slowly. "Exactly." Tellai grinned, nudging her. "Ooooh, Milly, you’re really into this, huh?" Millana scowled. "I’m just stating facts." Theo scribbled notes, muttering to himself. Leo leaned back, smirking. "Well, whatever he is, we’re gonna be the closest ones to the truth." Millana exhaled, glancing at the scattered papers, the theories, the discussions. There was no way they could get this 100% right. But her group? They were going to be the closest ones to the truth. Theo adjusted his glasses, flipping through one of the articles, his tone sharp and confident. "This figure is clearly ex-military. Look at the efficiency—every hit is precise, every appearance is calculated. This isn’t some random street hero. This is a highly trained operative executing missions with cold, tactical precision." Leo shook his head, scoffing loudly. "Wrong. If he were military, he’d be working within a structure. The way he operates? It’s way too erratic. No reports of coordination, no backup, no pattern that suggests intelligence oversight. That means one thing—he’s working entirely on instinct." Theo rolled his eyes. "Instinct? How absurd! If he relied only on instinct, his patterns would be reckless. But they’re methodical. That proves training." Leo smirked. "Or it proves something bigger. He’s an alien." Theo froze, staring. "What." Leo leaned forward eagerly, flipping a page. "Think about it! He came from the sky, right? His abilities break the laws of physics. If he’s not human, then of course his behavior wouldn’t follow military logic." Theo rubbed his temples, exhaling sharply. "The sheer amount of nonsense you spew is exhausting." Tellai burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "This is so cool, maybe he’s a cyborg like that Agent-EYE guy from Fate, but a space warrior, how exciting !" Millana sighed. "You’re all ridiculous." Leo grinned. "I stand by my theory." Theo scoffed. "Your theory lacks any grounding in reality!" Leo shrugged. "Reality is subjective." Theo pointed sharply at the papers. "Look at the evidence. The precision. The discipline. That is NOT instinct—that is trained execution." Leo countered immediately. "Oh, and what exactly do you think he’s doing? Hunting criminals like some government-sanctioned hitman?" Theo smirked. "Exactly." Leo groaned. "That’s the most boring explanation possible!" Millana tuned them out, her focus locking onto the reports in front of her. The sightings. The victims. The magic—bright yellow light. Then—it hit her. She sat up, her voice steady. "I know what he’s doing." The arguing stopped instantly, every eye locking onto her. She leaned forward, tapping the paper. "He isn’t just attacking criminals. He’s judging them." The group listened. Millana continued. "Look at the reports. Some criminals are killed instantly. Others are reduced to crying, begging for mercy. Why?" She exhaled sharply. "It’s not random. It’s intentional. His magic doesn’t just destroy—it changes things. If a person still has something left worth redeeming, he spares them. If not, well…" The weight of her words settled over the group, realization spreading. Leo scratched his chin. "So it’s not justice—it’s balance." Theo nodded slowly. "A calculated purge of corruption. Fascinating." Tellai shivered with excitement. "Ooooh, imagine if he can see corruption, like an aura around people!" Millana smirked slightly. "That’s what I believe." "Still, it doesn’t prove he’s NOT an alien." Leo’s voice rang through the study hall like an unstoppable force, carrying far more conviction than the theory deserved. Theo groaned audibly, rubbing his temples as though physically pained by the repetition. "Oh, here we go again." Millana exhaled sharply, shoving her notes into her bag, her patience running dangerously low. This was pointless. She had pieced together something real, something that made sense—but the twins? They’d probably argue about the vigilante’s origin until the heat death of the universe. Tellai, as usual, found the chaos endlessly entertaining, sipping on her drink and throwing in comments just to fuel the fire. "Oooh, but what if he’s a TIME TRAVELER?! Maybe sent from the future to fix past mistakes!" Theo visibly twitched, looking moments away from hurling his notebook across the room. Millana was done. Without a word, she slung her bag over her shoulder and strode toward the nearest stairwell, making her way upward, through the labyrinth of polished corridors, dodging the scattered students until she finally pushed open the door to the roof. The crisp wind rushed against her, carrying the scent of Fraid City—sharp, metallic from the skyline, rich with street food and exhaust fumes, blending into the night as the city spread out before her. Above, the deep purples and blues of the sky stretched wide, stars barely piercing through the urban glow, clouds drifting lazily over the towering skyline. She stepped forward, resting her hands against the rooftop railing, staring down at the sprawling city beneath her feet. This was it. The place where everything happened. The mysteries. The danger. The endless balance of chaos and order—fracturing, shifting, warping under unseen forces. And somewhere out there, hidden within the shadows, walking among them like a phantom, was the figure she had been trying to understand. Sorrow. She frowned slightly, feeling a weight in her chest she couldn’t quite explain. A strange familiarity. A pull, like something waiting to be unraveled. The wind picked up. She adjusted her jacket, narrowing her gaze, letting her thoughts spiral, breaking down every detail she knew—every clue, every lead, everything she had ever seen or heard about this entity. But no matter how many theories she crafted, how many rational explanations she tried to pull together—the truth felt like it was slipping just beyond her grasp. And that frustrated her more than she wanted to admit. Her fingers tightened against the railing. "I’m going to find him." Her voice barely carried against the wind, but the words felt final, like an oath. A challenge. The wind whispered against the railing, carrying the hum of Fraid City below, where the streets pulsed with life, oblivious to the girl standing alone on the academy rooftop, lost in thought. Then—a voice cut through the quiet, grounding her back to reality. "What are you doing out here by yourself?" Millana blinked, turning toward the source— And there he was. Frank Gavern. 3 The young detective stood near the doorway, hands in his coat pockets, his blond hair catching the faint glow of the rooftop lights, his expression unreadable—except for the brief flicker of recognition he immediately smothered. Millana felt something shift in her chest, her usual cool demeanor momentarily shaken as she took in the sight of him. He didn’t look much older than her. And yet—he carried himself like someone who had already seen too much of the world. Frank held her gaze, studying her carefully. "Shouldn’t you be inside working on the assignment?" Millana snapped back into herself, the momentary pause shattered by his question. She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Hmph. That assignment is too easy. No challenge at all." Her confidence flared back instantly, masking whatever awkward feeling had threatened to settle in. She leaned against the railing, smirking slightly. "Besides, I already have a solid understanding of this vigilante." Frank raised a brow, feigning curiosity. "Oh? That’s impressive." Millana grinned. "Of course. Because I’ve encountered him already." Frank froze for just a fraction of a second. Millana didn’t notice—but he did. The words hit harder than they should have. He knew exactly what she meant. But he couldn’t react. Instead, he schooled his features into pure neutrality, tilting his head slightly, pretending to be mildly intrigued. "You’ve encountered the vigilante?" Millana nodded, arms crossed proudly. "Yeah. He saved me once. Not that I needed saving. But whatever." Frank blinked, keeping his tone light. "Huh. Fascinating. Lay it on me—I’d love to hear your perspective on him." Millana, already locked into her tsundere fire, launched into a full analysis. She spoke of the night—the yellow magic, the criminals reduced to sobbing messes, the unmistakable feeling that he wasn’t just there to save people—but to do something far deeper. Frank listened, nodding along carefully, only offering neutral responses when needed. Millana narrowed her gaze, tapping the railing absentmindedly. "It’s not just justice. It’s not just punishment. He’s purging corruption. That’s why some criminals end up repenting like scared children, while others are—" She hesitated. Frank finished the sentence for her. "Gone." Millana nodded firmly. "Exactly." Frank’s jaw tightened just slightly, his composure flawless—but inside, something twinged. She was close. Too close. She had figured out the what—but not the why. And yet, she wasn’t wrong. Millana exhaled sharply, shaking off the intensity of her analysis, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, none of that matters. Because I’m going to find him." Frank’s brow lifted. "You are?" Millana smirked, her determination radiating off her like fire. "Yeah. And when I do, I’m going to kick him in his weird smug face for having the audacity to save me when I didn’t ask!" Frank stared. For one beat, he completely blanked, caught between amusement, disbelief, and deep concern for his own safety. She wanted to kick him in the face. Him. The person currently standing here, pretending not to be the very thing she was hunting down. Millana noticed his silence.

 

 

 

 

She frowned. 

"What?" 

Frank coughed, shaking his head slightly, throwing on his usual detective coolness. 

"Nothing. Just—interesting reaction, that’s all." 

Millana crossed her arms. 

"Hmph. Well, I don’t appreciate people acting like I’m some damsel in distress." 

Frank nodded slowly. 

"I can respect that." 

Millana paused, narrowing her gaze at him. 

Something about him still felt oddly familiar—but she couldn’t place why. 

Frank glanced toward the skyline, exhaling subtly. 

Millana was brilliant. Intuitive. Fearless. 

And no doubt—FATE would choose her when she graduated. 

But a quiet part of him hoped she had the brains to refuse. 

Like he did. 

He held that thought until the blaring alarm shattered the evening calm, ringing through the corridors like a siren of impending disaster. 

Students froze in confusion, heads snapping toward the intercom as a voice—chilling, urgent—echoed overhead. 

"Attention. All students must report to the auditorium immediately. This is a lockdown." 

The murmurs turned to panicked whispers, shifting into full-blown movement as students rushed toward the grand hall. 

Then— 

"There is an intruder on school property. He is considered highly dangerous. Do not approach. Stop what you are doing and get to the auditorium immediately." 

Millana felt her pulse quickening. 

Beside her, Frank stiffened, his face darkening with realization. 

He drew his firearm, eyes scanning the rooftops, the exits—the places an enemy could hide. 

"Come with me." 

His voice was calm, controlled, but urgent. 

He guided Millana toward the auditorium, moving fast, sharp, his pace one of someone who had already calculated the worst-case scenario. 

Millana watched him, her mind racing. 

This was serious. 

Someone had the audacity to attack Palladium Academy—the very institution tied to FATE’s recruitment. 

The second Frank disappeared into the distance, she made her move. 

She slipped through the closing security doors, dodging past a distracted guard before they could lock her inside. 

Frank was already gone, moving toward the danger. 

And there was no way Millana was sitting back and letting him handle it alone. 

If she could help—even just a little—she would. 

And besides… 

There was always the chance that the vigilante might show up. 

 

4 

Frank moved through the halls, his gun steady, his heartbeat faster than he wanted to admit. 

"An attack on Palladium. Someone has guts." 

FATE operatives were no doubt swarming the school already—there was no way an intruder could slip through unnoticed. 

Whoever this was—they were bold. 

Reckless. 

He needed to end this now before it spiraled. 

His sharp eyes caught the bathroom doors—the only place in the school without cameras. 

"I can transform in there." 

He pushed the door open. 

The moment it shut behind him, his hands tightened. 

The switch from Frank Gavern to Sorrow had to happen now. 

 

Security Confrontation – The Chilling Entrance of Silus 

Meanwhile, several security guards—FATE’s lowest-ranked operatives—cornered the intruder near the lockers. 

One raised his gun. 

"Freeze. Don’t make us shoot!" 

The figure barely reacted, stepping forward, his presence radiating with unnatural confidence. 

His voice was calm. Amused. Dangerous. 

"Turn the gun on yourself. Fire." 

The guard twitched violently. 

His hands shifted against his will. 

His finger pressed the trigger. 

Bang. 

Blood sprayed violently against the lockers. 

A muffled thud followed. 

The guards stumbled back in horror, their grips tightening on their weapons, hesitating now—because what the hell was that?! 

Then—the voice rang out again, playful, mocking, yet cold as death itself. 

"Oh, Mr. Headmaster—time for you to face the music." 

The air thickened, like the space itself recognized the power that had entered the building. 

The figure—Silus—stepped forward, arms outstretched, wearing the expression of someone who was utterly in control. 

"This doesn’t have to be hard. No one else needs to die." 

A smirk. 

"Though, I suppose it’s fine with me if they do." 

His eyes gleamed with something deeper—something beyond revenge. 

"I’ve already killed every other board member of The McGullen Corporation." 

A step forward. 

A voice dripping with certainty. 

"Come on. You’re the last one." 

A pause. 

Then—his voice lowered to something more personal. 

"With you gone, my parents can finally rest in peace." 

The words hung in the air, an execution already set into motion.