The building was abandoned, an underground bunker Vought used for meetings requiring absolute discretion. The fluorescent lights flickered with an erratic sound, as if even the light itself were reluctant to stay put.

Victoria was the first to enter. She walked with a purposeful stride, her long coat billowing behind her like a cloak of authority. Her eyes searched without searching: she didn't want to see her . . . but she didn't want not to see her.

You were already there. Standing. Motionless.

You looked like a monument erected to power and loss. The dark blue tactical suit made you look more imposing than ever, but your rigid posture betrayed contained tension.

Victoria didn't take two seconds to fire the first shot.

— I thought Vought would at least send a human being. — she said without greeting. — Not their favorite experiment.

You didn't react. Not at all. Not even a blink. But in the micro-gesture of your fingers —barely a tremor — there was more emotion than in any words.

— I'm here to talk. — you answered, your voice low, deep, restrained.

Victoria let out a dry, sharp laugh.

— Talk? Seriously? You? The woman who only knows how to obey orders and disappear when it suits her.

Your eyes flicked toward her with an almost fearful delicacy. You seemed to avoid looking at her for too long, as if making eye contact might shatter something essential.

— I didn't disappear because I wanted to.

— I don't care. — Victoria interrupted immediately. Her heels clicked on the concrete as she advanced, each step calculated to sound like a pronouncement. — What you did was a betrayal. And then you had the nerve to continue existing as if I didn't matter.

You clenched your jaw, but you didn't defend yourself. You couldn't. You didn't feel entitled.

— Stan . . . — you murmured.

Victoria raised a hand, demanding silence.

— Oh. Right. Papa Stan. — she spat the word out like venom. — The only being in your life capable of pulling your strings. How convenient.

You lowered your gaze. For the first time in years, the titan seemed small. Not because of her size, but because of her guilt.

— I don't want to fight with you. — you murmured.

— I do. — Victoria replied icily. — Because someone here has to be honest.

You swallowed hard. Your eyes flashed involuntarily red for a second, like an electric shock, then went out immediately. It was the emotional equivalent of a stifled sob.

Victoria saw it. And though she tried to hide it, the flash pierced her soul.

— You came to see me — Victoria continued, now shorter, more lethal. — Why? To obey another order? To watch over me? To finish what you started?

You raised your face. Your expression was hard, but a storm raged in your eyes.

— Because I love you.

Victoria closed her eyes for just a moment. Only one. That second was enough to show how much it still hurt.

— No. — she said, her voice a thread heavy with suppressed rage. — Don't ever say that to me again. Not after what you did.