Rats ready, set...

After the deed was done, Cinder waited a few more minutes, not to stew in the decision, but to let the driver of the inconspicuous car to drive back to the hotel. After that, she used the teleportation mark Jonathan had given her, appearing inside the stopped car, back in front of the hotel. The perfect crime.

Despite the success, though, her inside was simultaneously empty – and yet this emptiness did not frighten her. It wasn't the emptiness she'd felt trying to break Miss Sunny's head, or the emptiness that had begun to devour her from within the moment she hadn't. Contrary to her expectations, it only felt like contentment, as she felt a smile appear on her face as she looked at Amanda and Lee huddled in their seats – dead.

It was a strange emptiness, as if…

As if you had already jumped off a cliff – and were now free-falling, feeling your freedom, the unity of mind and body, at that brief moment before impact. Knowing that you could not take back the second that had passed as you pulled the trigger…

As you watch the ground approach.

Cinder made her way to the doors leading inside the hotel lobby, ignoring the silent agents who didn't even move their gazes in her direction the moment she entered. Like procedure, they guarded the elevator, and as Cinder entered, they deftly pressed the button for Cinder's floor without prompting.

The last floor, rented entirely for Jonathan's needs.

Second by second, Cinder just stood silent, staring into the polished metal, seeing her reflection in it.

A reflection of whom?

Second by second, floor by floor – the first passed, the second, the third…

And before Cinder knew it, she had arrived at the floor. The soft sound of the indicator and the barely perceptible change in pressure served as signals to Cinder as the steel doors opened quickly and without a sound in front of Cinder's face.

The rather long corridor was empty – except for the four RATS agents. They were like immovable statues at their posts, with the cold detachment of a machine, they guarded their posts. They were of course not actually machines, no matter how thorough their training, and yet, perfectly aware of the purpose of their work, they stood alert, unchanging, as best they could.

It only took Cinder a few steps to find herself in front of one of the two doors on the floor – the second led to the helipad, while this one led to Jonathan's chambers.

One of the agents, seemingly without changing his expression at all, only nodded slightly imperceptibly, answering Cinder's unasked question – whether she could go inside at the moment, whether Jonathan was ready to meet her.

Of course, Jonathan knew that I was coming to see him. He knew about who I was even before I knew it myself.

Cinder turned the doorknob slightly, and then took a step inside, closing the door behind her.

Jonathan was sitting on the couch across from the low coffee table with two cups smoking next to him – one filled with coffee, an extra-strong one.

Of course, he knew.

Cinder made her way to the couch and took a seat next to Jonathan, under his silent gaze. She turned slightly to the side, to be able to look into Jonathan's eyes.

There was a pause, a long five or ten seconds of silence, as father and daughter looked eye to eye, before Cinder said what she had to say. "I killed them."

The fall was over, and hitting the ground was the last memory that reverberated in Cinder's mind.

"I know," Jonathan said calmly and quietly.

Cinder knew that Jonathan would know. Of course, the agents assigned as her guards did not report to her first, but to Jonathan. They had brought the information to him the moment Cinder told her driver where to go next – maybe that was even the real reason why none of them left her out of their sight.

"I killed them," Cinder repeated what she had said, then, unable to bear the pressure of the silence, lowering her gaze. "Killed them all…"

Jonathan said nothing to Cinder's admission. Then, silently, calmly, he reached for the other mug not filled with coffee black enough to choke an elephant, this one filled with Jonathan's usual blend of tea. He then slowly took a sip from it, bringing it to his lips, giving Cinder a few seconds to parse out her feelings. To know that Jonathan had heard her, that this was not a lie, an illusion, or a hallucination.

Jonathan took a small sip, careful not to burn himself on the hot tea, then set it aside, returning his gaze to Cinder again.

Cinder couldn't find the strength to look up again, or to reach for the coffee prepared for her.

"What did you feel the moment you encountered them?" Jonathan asked a question that made Cinder slowly exhale – her mind wanting a distraction from her previous thoughts, grasping at the topic of conversation given to her.

Cinder covered her eyes, trying to remember that moment – the emotion she felt, that must have felt at achieving her revenge.

The joy at Sunny's suffering, the rage at her false apologies, the sadness as she realized what she had done…

It wasn't there.

"Nothing, I felt nothing." Cinder answered, lowering her head and letting her always-straight shoulders droop, "I… I've thought that I felt something. Joy, or sadistic satisfaction, or anger, or resentment, but… I only thought that I felt it – when in fact I felt nothing."

"When I met them, nothing. No joy as I watched Sunny's expression change to terror." Cinder spoke, not sure if she was answering Jonathan's question or if she just wanted to say it out loud.

"And when I looked at her pained expression, as I watched their despair bloom in their eyes, nothing… I felt no satisfaction when I returned their abuse to them, nothing when I tortured them. And nothing when I told agents to shoot them."

"Nothing, as I've achieved the things I've only dreamt about." Cinder, finally, as if some dam that was constructed in her mind had cracked, grinned sharply, unable to restrain a laugh that was completely inappropriate. It sounded less from one out of joy – rather, it sounded pained. "Huh! Nothing at all… No rage, no sadness, no joy! Just nothing. Even when it's all I've been thinking – all I've been waiting for… "

Cinder grinned widely, laughing uproariously, but it sounded more like wheezing coughs – one that she cannot control. "To feel nothing at all! Nothing would have happened or changed even if I had left them alive! I felt nothing when I decided to kill them – no joy, no fear and nothing changed… Hah – nothing at all! It was supposed to be something great – a book end that I would write as the last chapter of my past life. And yet! It had gone and passed like a whisper, the bullets that put an end to my past, nothing more than disappointing thuds! Nothing momentous at all!"

Cinder laughed again, suddenly bent over as if twisted in a fit of painful, excruciating and totally uncontrollable coughing. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! As if nothing had happened – as if there had been no years spent in tortuous existence, as if there had been no humiliation or pain, no collar or abuse! As if there were no nightmares, no anger, nothing! As if it didn't mean anything – all my anger, my actions, my goals – it didn't mean anything! It just doesn't exist!"

Cinder clutched at her head, feeling like she wanted to tear her hair out, as if hoping that this slight prick of pain would convince her otherwise, that it made any sense at all.

"It's okay, Cinder," Cinder felt a hand on her shoulder.

Cinder looked up into Jonathan's eyes – and found nothing but kindness and acceptance there.

He didn't mean that it was right that I killed them, He wouldn't choose that option himself – but he won't judge. He understands.

Jonathan knew from the beginning – and he's still here. With me.

Cinder, unable to keep her emotions under control – not that her previous outburst had shown that – like a sudden volcanic explosion, burst into tears.

Tears fell like waterfall from her eyes, as if it was just waiting for the right moment. Cinder lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Jonathan's figure, pressing her face against his chest, feeling the tears running down her cheeks, breaking through the barrier of fabric to his chest.

Cinder wanted to cling as tightly as she could, as if that body were her most formidable shield, her most insurmountable barrier, her most powerful defense.

She could feel two hands were on her shoulders, as someone wrapped their arms around her, pulling her in and pulling her tighter against them.

Jonathan.

Cinder cried uncontrollably, practically choking, swallowing her sobs only to break into another sob – one followed by another, shaking her body.

Don't be afraid, Cinder. You are the strongest.

And Jonathan hugged her as he continued to hold her trembling body, letting her sob and sob and sob until her wails turned into sobs, sobs into little shudders, and those into awareness.

Cinder pressed her face against Jonathan's soaking wet shirt as she continued to hug him. The damp fabric clung to her face, but Cinder didn't want to leave that warm embrace.

It's okay, Cinder. You are the strongest.

Cinder continued to hold onto Jonathan, even when her tears had dried up, not even thinking of pulling away from him.

"I'm not normal," Cinder finally uttered, still not pulling away from Jonathan, muttering into his wet T-shirt without lowering her arms, causing Cinder's words to sound muffled and slightly distorted through the fabric.

Jonathan only responded to these words by lightly stroking Cinder's back, still pressed against him. "No, Cinder, you are the strongest."

"That means I'm not normal," Cinder replied in that rare way she allowed herself when she argued with Jonathan – as rare and as exciting an event as the sun rising in the west.

"By definition, if a person is the 'strongest' – he doesn't fit the description of 'normal'." Jonathan replied almost jokingly as he continued to stroke Cinder's back, letting her slowly loosen her grip on him and pull her face away a little.

"I knew I was 'crazy' – but the word has many definitions and descriptions. I thought I fit one of them – sociopathy, sadism, vindictiveness – whatever… Not that I'd be that kind of crazy," Cinder pulled away from Jonathan, now able to speak a little more clearly.

"So damaged in that way, that I wouldn't feel anything from what happened."

"It's okay, Cinder," Jonathan continued to run his hand down Cinder's back, feeling her breathing begin to even out as he ran one of his hands over her head. "I had something like that happening to me – it still happens to me."

"Something like that?" Cinder looked up, surprised as she looked up into Jonathan's eyes.

"Yes." Jonathan replied simply, while Cinder slowly unhooked her arms and moved slightly away from Jonathan's soggy figure so that they could speak easier. Jonathan retracted one hand in response, but still left the other on her shoulder, allowing Cinder to still feel secure in this world.

Cinder waited a few seconds before she reached for her coffee and took a sip, washing the unpleasant taste of tears off her tongue with the bitter coffee before she began speaking again. "I… have dreamed about that moment – I thought about it for so long. Long before I ran away from the hotel, when you took me away, every second of the day. But it started to become less and less, once I've thought about it all the time – then a minute between each bout, then once an hour, once a day when I fell asleep… Then once a week, once a month – then only on my birthday, once a year." Cinder took another sip, interrupting her words and thoughts before she took the drink away from her lips.

"And then, on my last birthday… I didn't remember it. All day long I didn't remember what happened, over a year – I'd forgotten about it. And when you told me about coming to Atlas…" Cinder smiled weakly, staring into the black smudges on the walls of the cup. "I remembered what happened – and I thought I needed to put a final end to it…"

Cinder took another sip before looking up at Jonathan – into his, as understanding and calm gaze, as always. "Because I thought I was still that Cinder, the same Cinder who had once escaped from that hotel, who had once lived in that place. Not realizing that even without an end to that story, no bookend to my days there – I wasn't writing the same book for a long time. I just didn't know, and… I guess I never really thought about the fact that it was all… Just gone."

Cinder took one last sip, emptying her cup and setting it aside before looking back at Jonathan. "That it was really all over – that there would be no more Sunny in my life, the twins. And like the hotel, they were but remnants of my past. And I… I didn't know how to react to it."

Cinder fell silent after she finished, before she lowered her gaze and exhaled. "It must be strange not to realize that you're not interested in something anymore, that all your passion for it was all gone, to forget that you've forgotten. Just to miss that moment when you stop being the person you used to be and become someone else…"

"There's nothing strange about that." Jonathan spoke up, before taking another sip from his cup of tea. "Unaddressed trauma can eventually return, in the most unexpected form… Including this one."

Cinder was silent, enjoying the moment of silence with Jonathan, letting him finish his drink as he removed his hand from her shoulder, causing Cinder to unknowingly exhale and look up into Jonathan's face again. "You hoped I wouldn't kill them?"

"I knew that it would end that way," Jonathan simply shrugged. "Cinder, I've known you since you were a child, I know your every little habit, even the way you step – and I'm older than you are. I'm not a naive twenty-year-old anymore, Cinder – I knew about the only way it would end… But if you're asking me how I wanted it to end…" After these words, Jonathan looked away, staring silently into the distance, into the void, before he spoke slowly.

"No. I also wanted them dead. Maybe not all of them, but maybe Miss Sunny. Miss Sunny is the only murder I didn't commit when I had the chance." Jonathan sighed. "And I've regretted it, I did want her dead – for what she did to you… In a way, you put an end to my chapter of that book too," Jonathan smiled at Cinder at that moment, despite the bleakness of their conversation, before he sighed. And only at that moment did Cinder realize that Jonathan's figure was slightly hunched over, and his eyes were a little more tired than usual.

"I…" Cinder almost jumped away, instantly starting to make excuses, wanting to get away from Jonathan and let him get some rest without burdening him with her problems. But Jonathan kept his hand on Cinder's shoulder, holding her in place, making her freeze in an awkward position, just as she began to stand up.

"It's okay," Jonathan said calmly, before removing his hand from Cinder's shoulder, not allowing her to let the thought of her disturbing Jonathan's rest enter her mind, letting her rise from her seat all the way up calmly.

Cinder, frozen for a moment, turned to Jonathan, realizing the meaning of his action…

Before, she leaned in, trying to be swift in her actions so as not to allow herself to retreat, and at the same time allow Jonathan time to realize what was happening.

The main thing is to do everything, and do it right, don't back down, Cinder!

Cinder could see Jonathan's approaching face, as her lips moved closer to his, as her heart began to beat rapidly, yet seeming to remain frozen. She closed it until she could feel his breath on her lips and realize that her breath was also felt by Jonathan.

And she froze, stopping just inches from his face.

Cinder, you fool! You had your chance and you…

"I love you," Cinder blinked, trying to comprehend the words she heard, before Jonathan leaned forward and Cinder felt the soft pressure on her lips.

The kiss didn't last long and wasn't full of passion, just…

Love and care.

It seemed as if it didn't even last a moment. She didn't even have time to recognize the impulses and signals coming from her nerve endings before Jonathan pulled away and Cinder, as if on automatic, did the same.

"I know, Cinder." Jonathan said calmly, looking into her eyes. "Cinder, like I said, I know – I knew how you felt, And… It's hard for me to change my mind," Jonathan said without resentment or a single negative thought, speaking to her as only an adult could speak to another adult. "But… I'll try. Maybe in a year or two or five… And if you still feel the same way, then…."

When Cinder heard this, she blinked a few times, looking at Jonathan, and smiled back, "I've waited nine years – I'll wait some more. Jonathan, I love you."

***

Jonathan looked at Cinder, who had regained the confidence and stateliness in her gait and posture – something she had seemingly lost the moment Jonathan had just informed her of the summit's location.

Cinder was moving confidently again, as if the place had been specially built just for Cinder to walk through it, step by step leaving her mark on her surroundings. As if to mark the road in her passing – though Jonathan could see, with a slight smile, that Cinder was shifting her feet a little faster and her stride was a little more springy than usual. Not enough to be visible to an outsider, but enough to make Jonathan find reason to smile at the moment.

She's still such a child…

If only we had more reasons to smile at this moment.

Jonathan felt his smile fade before addressing the voice in his head, unexpectedly.

Don't ruin the moment.

The pleasant feeling inside Jonathan's chest, which had been gone for a moment, returned with renewed vigor, allowing him to feel as if the room had grown slightly warmer and brighter.

Jonathan settled more comfortably in his seat, resting his head on the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

There, the problem with Cinder was solved. The path has been chosen – all that's left is to walk it.

Down or up?

We'll find out at the end.

Jonathan knew of course about Cinder's feelings, about her plans, about her condition. Not from the beginning, but when Cinder first began to grow up and her closet began to feature bras, and, after a while, lacy lingerie – Jonathan then knew that Cinder was not just a child. She's a woman – with a special worldview.

Perhaps back then, Jonathan could have tried to do something to stop her familial feelings to turn to romantic infatuation. It's unlikely that it would have worked, but he could have tried. But then he, caught up in world events, stopped trying to think about these matters, and couldn't see a similar aspiration in Cinder.

Did he want to stop it?

Or maybe he didn't want to.

Cinder was growing up, the short time span of her hormonal overload had passed – and by the time Jonathan could first admit to himself that Cinder was also considering him from a romantic point of view, the moment had passed. Instead of an opportunity to change things, there was only one choice left – what to do about it?

The most understandable and simple option, perhaps, would have been to ignore Cinder's affection, or maybe just turn her down – maybe even, to show the seriousness of his intentions, find a life-partner of his own.

But easy options are not our way. Isn't it, Jonathan?

It will take years to accept what has happened, not just on a level of reason and awareness, but on a level a little deeper than rational understanding. The social and political implications will be considerable, too. Jonathan had a long and tedious battle ahead of him.

Another one on the list.

Jonathan closed his eyes, coming to a moment of final realization.

Jonathan Goodman would not have come to the conclusion he did.

But Jonathan Goodman had decided exactly on that course of action.

It's a paradox, isn't it?

Paradoxes and logical contradictions are how I prefer to describe my life.

And how would you describe your current situation?

I'm the one who did this – there's a Jonathan Goodman, and another Jonathan Goodman, who would never do this. He is also me – but more precisely…

I was that person.

That's exactly right. There is no paradox. The Jonathan Goodman who once existed was me – and I was him. The new Jonathan Goodman is still me, and I am still Jonathan Goodman. But the Jonathan Goodman of the past and the present are different people.

Everyone falls asleep as one person and wakes up as another. If sleeping occurs without dreaming – how do we know unequivocally that we are still the same person who fell asleep?

We just know.

Just know? That's it? No philosophical background?

Every theory is built on an axiomatic assumption. I am me, because I cannot be anything other than myself. Some things…

Are things in themselves.

I never thought that nearing thirty, I would begin to think about Kant.

That line of thought was originally introduced by Plato.

Jonathan, still without opening his eyes, thought for a moment, then a second and a third before snapping his fingers.

I remembered who Plato was!

There was silence for a moment – as Jonathan froze, still holding his hand in the air, before opening his eyes.

I really am not the same Jonathan Goodman anymore.

Were there any doubts?

Jonathan only chuckled at that realizations.

Sometimes, even when you have no doubts, you still need proof.

And then what?

Then…

Jonathan thought for a moment before he smiled again.

I'd be glad to get on with the ritual. I have walked as a cripple for a long time; it is time to regain the ability to walk upright without the aid of a cane.

It will take a few weeks – maybe even months. Reconstructing my own conception is a very draining and difficult task.

Another one on the list.

Jonathan shook his head, then lifted it from the back of the couch, stretching his shoulders.

So the moment of truth had arrived. Cinder has dealt with her problems – the summit seems frozen moments from resolution. And we…

Ruin it all.

Why, Jonathan? Is it really the right thing to do? How many people will die, how many agreements will be betrayed, how many promises will be broken – and for what?

A fanatic who only sees the moment when the last of Atlas' men will go up in flames. A general preparing for his last desperate suicide attack. An old spider who long ago painted the roles of every actor. A maddened Grimm queen, just wanting to enjoy the blood flowing through Remnant. A doubting ally, trying to uphold justice without realizing that there is no justice in the world of politics.

It's a cruel world, Jonathan. Homo homini lupus est. The dog eats the dog, the spiders eat each other, the rat king gets everything.

The rat that wins the rat race is still a rat.

The old man wouldn't approve. He raised you that way to keep the Order from influencing you. To raise you to be a hero, a savior, a perfect example of a good man.

And he gave me that opportunity – it just came to the current situation in the end. The Order of Hermes didn't become that way for no reason – games of politics don't come out of nowhere. Everything has a cause and a consequence, the politics of powerful old men, too.

And that's the path we're treading, Jonathan. Nervous?

A little. No more than usual.

Jonathan exhaled sharply, gathering his thoughts before slipping his hand into his pants pocket, the ones that were empty, and, after a moment, pulling out a scroll.

Unlike all the others, this scroll was not just secure – it was adapted for only an extremely limited set of messages that it could send.

Jonathan silently chose the right one for him before sending it, after a dozen confirmations of his identity. For what would happen next, it almost seemed lacking.

The die is cast.

Jonathan glanced at the scroll before letting it melt into the air, the last message imprinted in his eyes.

Titanomachy. So it is done.