Babel's resident explosives expert is all-too-eager to carry out my request.

Tawny accepts her task without question, enlisting a handful of our former crew to follow her into the vault of gunpowder beneath the dome. In the meantime I call for an emergency evacuation, ordering Babel's residents outside it's walls unless they're willing to spend an eternity buried in it's rubble. I half-expect a revolt but either blind obedience or abject fear ensures the Babelonians do as I command, streaming through the gate and gathering in the dust between the relocated airships.

I pace nervously, grinding my teeth in an effort to distract myself from what I've put into motion. While passing herds of displaced livestock and groggy drunkards I deliberately skirt the area where the Technicians have gathered, too ashamed to show my face in front of Dr. Henley and the other newly-released prisoners. All the while the sky continues to darken, casting our world into shadows as the first raindrops begin to make their appearance.

"What's taking them so long?" I growl to no one.

At that moment my radio crackles. I hold it to my ear, the red ringing so loudly that I have to strain to hear Tawny.

"We're locked and loaded down here, el capitan." She reports wryly. "Just testing the detonator's range, now."

"Good." The heat of countless angry glares burn into me. "Your audience is getting restless."

"Ten-four. Unfortunately we have run into one small issue. A blip, really. In any case I was hoping we could get the Runner's assistance down here."

I steal a glance back at the Babelonians standing alongside their hastily-packed bags and trunks. A wall of hateful whispers and menacing stares hits me and I have all the encouragement I need to go back into the doomed city.

"I'm on my way."

Tawny gives me her location and I take off at a run, concentrating on the sensation of blood coursing through my veins and letting it drown the doubts threatening to slow me down. Tearing past the armed guards barring the gateway back into Babel and entering the farmlands, I close my ears to the sounds of near-extinction. The blare of an alarm accosts me while my own voice plays over the repaired speaker system.

....All citizens must evacuate Babel immediately. This is not a drill. All citizens must evacuate Babel immediately. This is not...

Emptied huts and flats streak by me, blurring in my peripherals as I follow cobbled streets toward the bridge where Tawny and the others are waiting.

"That was quick." The former rebel leader quips when I draw up. "Good to see that moping around the Tower hasn't corroded your talents."

Too on edge to conjure something clever, I speak in a low voice to disguise my breathlessness. "What's the problem?"

"This." She holds up a mess of wires and metal. "The detonator's frequency isn't strong enough to reach outside the walls."

Head still abuzz from the run, it takes me a moment to grasp her words. The plan was to evacuate Babel, then detonate the tomb of explosives from a safe distance.

I swallow, "How far will it go?"

"Right about here." Tawny hands the detonator over.

I stare dumbly at the unassuming piece of machinery as Tawny's conspirators pack up their gear and depart for the waiting horses.

"If I had more time I could have rigged up something with better range." Her explanation buzzes over the ringing in my ears. "Unfortunately, this is the best I could do under the circumstances." Flipping my hand over she indicates the trigger on the detonator's opposite side. "When you're ready, turn the dial, here and flip this switch."

"How long will I have?" I ask quietly.

"I can't say for certain," Tawny shrugs, already taking a step backwards down the bridge. "There's enough gunpowder beneath us to make the Irrigator look like a pinprick. If I were you, I'd start running and wouldn't look back."

Droplets of coming rain fall upon my hair and shoulders as I watch the rebels climb up on their mounts and take off. Only Tawny hangs back, her head tilted as she considers me.

"It never meant anything, you know." She tells me.

I blink, shaking clear some of the red. "What?"

"This place." Tawny raises her chin, indicating the clocktower looming over us. "It's just brick and metal."

"Of course you'd think that; since the moment we met you've been trying to destroy Babel."

"You got me there." She laughs. "But just because I like to blow things up doesn't mean I don't know what's important." Her brows rise. "And I can tell you for certain that what really matters isn't inside this dome."

My head throbs as I stare at the contraption clenched in my hand, bringing it down to my side to hide the shaking. "You better get going."

"I'll radio you when we're all outside." Tawny swings up onto her horse, yanking on the reins to turn and face me one last time. "It was quite the ride, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I strain to speak through the tightness in my throat. "I guess you could say it was."

She quirks a small grin, "Good luck."

I nod wordlessly. Tawny kicks the horse into a run and I am left alone, standing upon a bridge in the middle of a cursed and abandoned city. Thunder roars through me, sending violent tremors throughout. Minutes stretch into an unbearable eternity and by the time Tawny's voice echoes through the radio I am doubled over the bridge's railing, my head held in both hands as I hiss through clenched teeth.

"We're ready. Blow it."

My thumb hovers over the detonator's trigger, jumping in tune with my furious heartbeat. Just push the trigger, Kay. Push it and be done with all of this.

No.

Stop it. I shout back at the void. This isn't about you. This is about the City. This is about Meg. I had my chance to be selfish and I squandered it. It's just like Tawny said: this place doesn't mean anything.

If you push that button, he dies.

No. I nearly drop the detonator as I clutch at my chest. I can't let these old hurts drive me anymore. I have to be better than this. I can. I will.

You're killing him. You're killing them all.

An image of the Brutes lying helpless upon their slabs underground appears in my mind's eye. Destroying this place means severing my last hopes of getting Will back. If I push that button then I have to accept that he's gone forever. The finality is nearly enough to drive me to my knees but I force myself to remain upright, choking as I struggle to place my hands back on the controls.

I can do this. Do it, Kay. Just one little press...one press and this will all be over. Let it go.

My heart constricts tighter, the red deafening and my thoughts impossible to grasp. Come on, Kay. Come on.

Come on.

Drawing a shaky breath I tilt my head up to capture the mists. Layers of steel scaffolding disguise the heavy skies but I utter a silent plea anyway, feeling the slight press of hands upon my shoulders in the instant before I squeeze.

The quake starts as a slight shuddering beneath my feet. I stare at the tower before me, watching with an odd sense of detachment as it sways back and forth, the face of the clock slipping and swinging on it's hinges with a deafening creak before plummeting to the ground. The water in the canals sloshes back and forth, waves rising over my feet and the crumbling shore. I become awash with the sounds of destruction as I drop the detonator, my hands gripping the railing of the bridge while the world goes to embers.

Run.

A crack forms in the Tower's great spire, causing it to shift and split. The top half of the tower severs itself from the bottom and I feel next to nothing, frozen and unable to turn away from the sight of a thousand graphite slabs cascading into the courtyard.

Run.

An incredible lightness takes over, budding from my chest and spreading to the tips of my fingers. It occurs to me how easy it would be to remain here, to let myself waste away with the rest of Babel. All of my regrets and my fears would be forgotten and eventually...I would be forgotten, too. All of my mistakes, misdeeds and failures would become lost to the sands of time.

Run.

I stumble back as the bridge begins to fracture, the beautiful mosaic tile spilling into the canal. The shriek of steel pulling loose from it's ties tells me that the scaffolding above me is mere moments from coming apart. A strange hum invades my senses as boulders the size of houses begin to pile up around me. When a colossal hole forms where the tower once stood the phantom hands upon my shoulders give a gentle push, finally spurring me into motion.

Run.

And I do.

I run with the abandon of a hurricane, leaping over piles of wreckage and hurtling headlong toward the outer wall. Shards of steel rain down around me, shattering the roofs and windows of the condemned buildings. I kick off the side of a wall and narrowly miss slipping into the abyss that used to be a street, clearing the darkness and landing nimbly on the opposite side. Pushing myself up I duck and dodge, whipping around corners when the way is blocked and gritting my teeth whenever a stray piece of shrapnel finds my flesh.

This is flight. This is freedom. I twist sideways as a chunk of a building lands beside me, jumping over the scattered debris while my muscles scream from glorious rediscovery. Ahead of me the cobweb of scaffolding dislocates, pulling loose from it's supports. Seeing an opportunity I grab hold of some mossy rebar and swing up onto the tilted platform, heaving myself up the makeshift ramp.

Giving into my instincts I pour everything I am into the run. The red slips away, replaced by Babel's death roars. Metal, stone and glass shatter around me, the solid structures appearing as wisps of vapour for me to pass through. When the walkway breaks I soar to another, when the sky falls I chart a new path. Babel is forgotten as I surrender to the beauty that is simply being alive.

A murderous tremor directs my eyes downward. Blackness forms in the earth below, the chasm swallowing up the city as it widens. I stumble when the platform falls from it's hinges, barely managing to slide beneath the railing before it tumbles to the ground. Landing on another piece of scaffolding I clamber onwards, searching hypnotically for a way over the canyon.

Up. I have to go up.

A jagged section of the dome hits the platform behind me and I am tossed into the air. I manage to grab onto a severed stairwell and haul myself up and over it's guardrail, breathing heavily as I ascend.

One level. Another. Any stability I find in the rafters vanishes the instant I grasp it, breaking apart and disappearing into the crater below. Flying higher I cast myself into the clouds and at long last, find myself with nowhere to go but forward.

The final passageway stretches out before me, the rain-dampened steel granting me speed. I tear down the path, ignoring the sounds of splintering metal as I keep my eyes trained on the lip of the outer wall. A mighty groan and the walkway snaps, sending my heart into my throat as I plunge.

Agony laces my arms and shoulders. Dangling a hundred feet over a portal to the Burn I grip the rungs of the scaffold, holding on with everything I have. Hand over hand I begin to climb, stealing glimpses at the silver sky and willing my way toward it.

The scaffolding shifts again, bits of concrete pelting me as the outer wall crumbles. I keep going, releasing a guttural cry and heaving myself up the final few feet.

Another creak and the platform collapses.

I leap, my sights set on freedom. Hands grab hold of stone and I catch myself just as I have done a thousand times before.

Babel's remnants vanish as I clamber up and over the lip of the dome. Rising up on shaky legs I ride the mirrored exterior into the desert, surfing the rapidly-disintegrating city as I would a dune. The blast follows in my wake and eventually steals my footing, throwing me into the avalanche. I fall, covering my head with my arms. Sky becomes stone and I am pummeled on all sides, hitting unforgiving earth and curling up into a ball in a futile attempt to shield myself.

Moments pass. Minutes. Hours. I wait for the godsawful shaking to cease, wondering if I've already fallen to the bottom of the chasm.

After what feels like an eternity, the rumbling stops.

I twitch my fingers and toes, slowly untangling myself and shoving away the stacks of boulders. Rain drenches me, the droplets beating a solemn song against my bruised skin and washing away the last of the red. Turning my face up to the weeping sky I stretch my arms wide and unleash an unholy scream.

It's over. There's nothing left to hold onto, nothing to hide behind. The demon queen is dead and I am all that's left in her aftermath.

Pummeled by the rain, I mourn for them all. For Cade, for Will, for everyone I pushed aside in favour of my own ambitions. I let the hurt and the shame dig in, let all the ugly feelings soak into my core and wrap their cold arms around me. Without my armour of red the pain pierces a thousand times deeper but I don't try and push it away. Instead I welcome my newest scars, even knowing that they will never fully heal.

I can still come back from this. My story isn't over, yet.

If I can claw my way through the ashes of Babel then I can do anything. Destroying the Vane's power source will slow the Madam but it won't stop her; I have to get to the City. I have to save Meg and the others.

The damp wind carries someone's voice. Bloodied but invigorated I jog toward it's source, drawing up before the horses and their riders. The shock on the faces of my officers suggest that I resemble a beast returned from the Burn.

"I'm leaving." I tell them before anyone can say a word.

"The... the ships are ready," A corporal motions over his shoulder.

"Take them." I instruct, my heart already lost to the wilds. "Get as close to the City as you can and wait for me there."

"Where are you going?"

"To get help." I reply. "Or at least..." I take another step in the direction Jaron headed, "I'm going to try."

"We're with you, Mistress but the others—"

"Tell them the truth." My sore muscles cry out for flight. "Tell them about the storm and the Vane and that I'm sorry for everything. I'll tell them, myself when this is over but right now I have to go."

The corporal looks bewildered but manages to sputter a goodbye, "As you command. Gods' speed, Mistress."

"One last thing," I spin around, calling out as I dance backwards, "Don't ever call me that again. I'm no mistress!"

"Then what should we call you?"

Cupping my hand around my mouth I shout to be heard over the wind and the rain, bellowing my answer across the Wastelands.

"I'm the Runner!"