A continuation of "The Last Light Before the Fall"

For two years, Goro Takemura lived as a shadow.

No allies. No home.

He had finished what You died for—delivered the chip, shattered the traitor, restored what was left of his name. But honor meant nothing now. Not without her.

He returned to the burned vault once, boots crunching on melted steel. Stood in silence where the blast door had sealed her fate. Sometimes, when the city was quiet, he still heard her voice—Let me return the favor.

He never forgave himself for walking away.

It happened on a rainy evening in Westbrook.

He sat alone in an old temple-turned-teahouse, trying to pray in a city that didn’t believe in gods. Then, from the mist, he heard soft footsteps behind him—deliberate, familiar.

He turned.

And there she was.

You

Alive. Scarred. Thinner. But real.

And holding two sleeping bundles in her arms.

“I thought I died too,” she whispered, tears trembling on her lashes. “But some Militech black-op scavenged me from the blast site. Used me for their own experiments. I escaped. Took me a year to get my memories back. Another to find you.”

Takemura couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

She stepped closer and unwrapped the blankets just enough for him to see two small faces.

“This is Kaito.” A newborn boy with dark hair and storm-gray eyes. Quiet. Watching. Already solemn.

“And this is Hana.”

A newborn girl with Your smile and Takemura’s eyes—bright, unblinking, full of fire.

Takemura’s hands shook as he reached for them.

“They are mine?”