Chapter 315 (Patreon)

Chapter 315

Matt had to check his AI to see how long he stood in complete stillness and silence. It felt like hours, days even, but ended up being a whopping five minutes. That's all he was allowed to grieve before the healers grew insistent enough that he gave way. But as soon as his armor was off, his body snapped back to full health. There were only a couple of things that his baseline healing couldn’t deal with, but he was able to flush those out with a quick few hundred million mana directed like a scalpel through his Millennium Willow Lifesap, overwhelming and overpowering the foreign mana left in his body. There was the sound of a distant scream and what sounded like a mirror breaking, then he was free of the curses he’d accumulated.

Reluctantly, the healers released him once more, moving on to the others still in the shuttle.

His attention bounced from the healers to the empty eyed Dena, and the anger that had been burned out in the end of the battle flickered back to life.

Liz, who was as shocked as he was, was an instant slower than Aster in picking up on his emotional outburst, but both of them were too slow to stop him. It only took an instant to find who he was looking for, because he was always near the second person Matt needed.

Baxter and Melinda.

Even as he neared his full combat speed, Matt watched as Baxter tracked him. When it became clear that Matt was in fact headed for them, Baxter vanished before appearing next to Matt. They were in between buildings, and while in better times Matt might have cared enough to do this privately, he had no such concerns at the moment.

“We need Melinda’s miasmas on all missions going forward.”

“That was already discussed, Ascender Titan, and you know the answer.” Baxter looked unperturbed, unbothered, unruffled in a way that made Matt even angrier. He was Tier 46 and would have felt them coming back injured, and he had the gall to look at Matt like that.

Eric was dead damn it.

“And I’m demanding that answer be changed. Eric could have been saved if we were prepared, damn it.”

“Then prepare better. Melinda’s Talent has been and will continue to be for post-mission healing only. We’re not risking her abilities leaking.”

There was a clear dismissal, but Matt ignored it and pressed on ahead. He didn’t care what they’d said before. They’d never been in danger before, so it had never been worth pressing the question. Now, though, he snapped at the higher Tier. “So our lives are worth less than keeping Melinda’s Talent secret?”

Baxter assessed him coolly. “Yours isn’t, but you don’t need it. The rest are.”

It took Matt a moment to process that answer, as he couldn’t quite believe it. As the disbelief settled in, it nestled up against the embers of his anger and ignited hot and fast.

Still firmly in combat mode, Matt threw a punch with everything he had at Baxter. The Tier 46 didn’t so much as flinch as he took the blow to the face. His hair didn’t waver, his skin didn’t ripple, and his clothes barely fluttered as the impact vanished like a stone being thrown into a lake.

Looking entirely unperturbed, Baxter looked up at Matt. “Are you done with your tantrum, Ascender? If so, I suggest you remember the larger picture and do your job.”

The moment the final word left his mouth, Baxter vanished, leaving Matt there to think about what he had said. They wouldn’t give their team Melinda’s overhealth because he didn’t need it thanks to his upgraded [Regeneration]. That felt awful… gross… invalidating? Matt wasn’t sure the emotion he was feeling, but its negative energy clawed at him.

What was he doing?

Why was he on the battlefield if he was the only one who mattered enough to get special treatment he didn’t even need, when the others, his friends, were the ones in danger and the ones risking their lives.

Why? Why him? Why, why, why?

Intellectually he knew the answers. The war would only escalate with his Talent or Melinda’s known, but with a dead friend or mentor, Matt didn’t care about logic. He wanted the war to end but knew that was impossible.

The Empire wasn’t fighting to win, but rather to hurt the other Great Powers enough that they would settle for a lesser peace deal. Ideally, if the Ascenders did their jobs, a topic that Baxter had so rudely reminded Matt of, something that resembled white peace instead of just a lot of concessions.

There were reasons they fought; reasons why so many people like Eric threw their lives away. Good reasons. At the start of the war or before, the other Great Powers would have demanded so much that the Empire would have been crippled if they agreed to their demands. If they could fight the enemy into a stalemate, it was possible for them to consider the cost of the war and some concessions about the Empire’s future growth enough of a detriment to accept peace.

Matt knew all of that, but he didn’t care. He wanted his friends to be safe, he wanted the war to just be over, he wanted people to stop being so selfish. He… he wanted a lot of things.

The punch to Baxter's face was a stark and harsh reminder of reality. He, a measly Tier 25, meant nothing without the rules the Tier 50s set in place. If a true war were to kick off, he would be obliterated by a passing Tier 30, let alone a rogue Tier 46. He had hit a Tier 46 healer with everything he had, and he hadn’t even ruffled the man's hair. He was ultimately a large fish in an artificially curated pond, and if the rules were disregarded, the walls keeping the ponds separate would fall, and he would be eaten much like Eric had been.

Eric. Matt sent his spiritual perception to the drop ship to find that everyone was already gone, but a few quick pings showed him everyone else was in the hospital. Where Baxter was. Matt felt like he should feel bad for punching the older man, but he genuinely didn’t feel an ounce of remorse.

Baxter might be right, but he was still a dick.

Matt turned away, summoning a loose stone to hand and crushing it with a spike of [Earth Manipulation]. It wasn’t as satisfying as doing it with raw muscle power, but even he couldn’t overpower something ten tiers above him that easily.

He threw it away in disgust and began to head to the hospital. He didn’t need it, his cursed [Regeneration] had made sure of that, but he should still… be there.

“Are you quite done?” a familiar voice asked, and Matt whirled around. Luna was suddenly present, her purple eyes filled with smug satisfaction.

“Of course not!” Matt snapped. “If Melinda had been helping, then Eric would still be alive. Light would have barely been bothered, and we’d be able to send those stupid smug pricks packing! You! You need to go to Baxter, go to whoever, get them to allow for Melinda’s deployment. If we’d had her miasma, he’d still be alive.”

“Matthew,” Luna’s voice was calm and level, but still carried enough bite to make Matt flinch.

“You’re going to tell me about how wrong I am, how even that wouldn’t be enough to save Eric? How even if we’d been fully buffed, fresh and not tired, we’d still be pushed back and torn to shreds? That’s what you told me last time we lost, you here to do it again?”

“Of course not.”

Matt couldn't accept that. He refused to. “So what, it’s all because of that stupid secret that Eric is dead?”

“Maybe.”

He had no idea how Luna seemed so calm. “So then do something.”

“Matthew,” Luna sighed. “I admire your faith in me, but I do not have that power. You have more sway than I do in such matters at this point. But it will do you no good.”

“So what, should I eject [Regeneration] from my spirit, get them to spill the beans on Melinda to protect me?”

Luna’s expression didn’t change, but he could have sworn she got as close to scowling as she ever did. “Do you know who the last Ascender-class combatant to be declared dead was?”

The question jolted Matt from his rant. He hadn’t been expecting that. He knew the answer, though he suddenly sensed a trap. “The Master of All, from the Sects?”

“Hmm. No.”

“Really? Then who…” Matt was genuinely curious.

“The answer is Slayer Daedalus, though even that is somewhat contested.”

“Daedalus? Didn’t he live like a hundred thousand years ago? I know Cosmind killed the Master of All during his war, so… what are you getting at?”

Luna shook her head. “No, The Master of All is officially missing, presumed dead.”

“Didn’t Cosmind bring his body back in six pieces?”

Contrary to what he expected from her earlier statement, Luna agreed with him. “She did. And yet, he remains officially presumed dead to this day, becoming the twenty-first Ascender-class individual to currently hold that status. Do you know why? It’s because Ascenders get beaten to a bloody pulp far more than the history books would have you believe. There are three hundred and fifty-six known instances wherein an Ascender has been, by all rights, killed. This has gone up to and included active dismemberment and apparent core sundering in the sight of all the Tier 50s in the realm, and yet of those three hundred and fifty-six instances, only twenty two remain to this day. What does that tell you?”

“Ascenders… can come back from the dead?” Matt narrowed his eyes. “I don’t buy it.”

Luna responded with a slow blink. “Your wife is a phoenix, Matthew. You of all people should know what truly constitutes death is… muddled, at best. What sets Ascenders apart from anyone else is difficult to pin down and changes between every Ascender I’ve ever met, but it shines the brightest at the very border between life and death. These are people who have beaten and defied the odds at every turn, and there’s never a more obvious time than when they’re on the brink of death. When pushed to their breaking point, Ascenders refuse to even bend. They figure out some death-defying trick right as their spirit begins to crack, barely cling to life until they manage to be rescued and spend centuries clawing themselves back to full power, or simply reveal that they were secretly holding back some hidden natural treasure or unique skill all along, and they were never in any true danger. Sometimes, they’ll go missing for a while. Days. Years. Centuries. Millennia even. I believe the current record is held by the Legend Dawn, who was presumed dead for just over twenty thousand years before reappearing as the perfect picture of health. But, after the thirty fourth time that Gladiator Oracle was ostensibly killed only to re-emerge shortly thereafter, official policy became that no Ascender should ever be labeled genuinely dead. Some people even debate whether Slayer Daedalus should merely be presumed dead, never mind that he was killed by a Tier 50 in front of a planet full of witnesses.”

Matt didn’t like it but he started to catch on. “So Baxter saying that I didn’t need Melinda…”

Luna nodded. “Was only partially in reference to your own personal source of overhealth, yes. Personally, I feel that he perhaps is being too generous in his estimation, because while Ascenders are very nearly never properly killed, a good number have been permanently crippled in some form or another, never fully recovering before Ascension. There are rumors that they recovered at that point, but that’s neither here nor there. I certainly didn’t teach you to overestimate yourself, and I will be very cross with you if you become the twenty third dead or presumed dead Ascender.”

“So then why are they even trying to kill us?” Matt’s annoyance flared back up again, this time aimed more at the others they were at war with.

“Because even if it doesn’t stick, plenty of those near-death experiences still took their Ascenders out for quite some time, and the newer you are, the more likely it is to happen. Imagine the difference that would be made if Light hadn’t been able to make it to healers, especially Melinda, within literal seconds of being shot. Would he have pulled through? Historically, it seems likely. But he would have still spent weeks, months, maybe even years recovering, and they can use that opportunity to push forward the war, trying to disable you as well. Sometimes, such events either require or result in a Tier-up, which is nearly as good as far as they’re concerned right now. Without Team Zero operating on the frontlines, they could certainly make a concerted effort to push through the Tier 25 war regions, opening up the Tier 35 fronts and hastening their push for The Citadel that much more.”

Matt once more grew agitated as it all seemed so clear, almost like she was agreeing with his logic but disagreeing on the outcome. “So then, give us overhealth and we’ll wreck them! Eric would still be alive, and we would have torn them apart.”

Luna sighed. “Again, Matthew, I am not the one you need to persuade. But, supposing you are right, and I’m not saying that you are, how do you expect the response to that would be? An obvious use of nearly miraculous healing in full view of strategists. People would figure out that overhealth is at play, and Melinda’s secret begins to leak. Not immediately, certainly, as she’s under enough divination wards that sometimes I almost forget she exists, but cracks begin to emerge.”

Matt wanted to pull out his hair in frustration. She just wasn’t getting it. “So what? Overhealth exists, we got cooldown-less healing during the tournament, it’s not that rare.”

“Overhealth effects do indeed exist, but they are always quite limited. Your upgraded Regeneration is practically the only reliable source in the entire Realm. And that is limited to self-only, through a skill which very few people can utilize to any appreciable level because it takes too much mana to regrow even a limb in anything less than weeks. That’s already good enough for most people to be happy with, along with a healing cooldown that will last decades. Otherwise, it is immensely constrained. Healing tanks that amplify a particular spell cast through them, and allow for complete repair over the course of days. Cracked skills which only heal certain types of injury, Domains which can only affect certain individuals, skill modifications which do not eliminate cooldown, merely shift it, skilled healers capable of reducing cooldown for people half their Tier to nearly nothing.

“Even the healers who treated you during your tournament were not fully eliminating cooldown, merely taking it upon themselves, something they could only do on account of their incredibly high Tier compared to yours. It’s not practical to deploy at scale, in a real war. Melinda is different. She is a Tier 17 capable of providing overhealth to Tier 40s, with any skill, at any time, with no known drawbacks. An army passing through her healing miasma might not be entirely unkillable, but they certainly become all but immortal for over a week afterwards, able to be brought back from the brink by any credit-level, part-time healer with a Tier 8 skill.”

Matt shook his head, wanting to deny that. “So what, because she’s too good at healing, they’re not going to let her heal anyone? How does that make sense?”

“Melinda is a strategic asset, and one that only grows stronger with time. I’m not privy to all of the details behind the decision, but I expect that you are a major factor as for why Melinda isn’t being deployed at the moment.”

“So if they weren’t expecting to take part in a true war sometime in the next thirty thousand years…”

“It is possible that they would be utilizing Melinda more obviously, yes. Or they might not. I am not interested in playing such high-level games, but I am aware that there are at least two schools of thought. One of which is inclined to keep all major cards as close to the chest as is possible for the event that things truly become dire, and another of which is to utilize such resources as aggressively as possible, to ward off events ever becoming dire. Your presence threatening a much greater war in the near future has likely lent more credence to the former, but several people whose judgment I trust very much believe that unveiling Melinda will do far more harm than good, no matter the time. Maybe not to your level of disturbance, but still more than could be acceptable.”

Matt scowled. He didn’t like that his presence might have caused Eric to die, but it was also hard to really argue against it.

Luna continued without letting him get a word in edgewise. “As for whether it would have made a difference this time, who’s to say? If things were different, things would be different. For now, I advise you to do two things. The first is to keep doing what you do, the impossible. It doesn’t matter what the strategists are planning, that they’re thinking they’ll make this war a controlled loss, take our hits now and conserve our strength for the next war. You have the power to change that, to drive back the enemies from our doorstep, to scatter them across the stars and break their resolve. You, Matt, are the key to all of this. Keep fighting, keep winning. The Emperor believes in you, I don’t want you to stop believing in yourself. Your Path to get here was an unusual one, though they all are in their own ways, but you’ve never been one to balk at impossibilities. Don’t start now.”

“And the second thing?”

Luna’s face softened. “Go meet your friends. Mourn with them. But as you do so, when you see Zack, remember what I said about Ascenders.”

***

By the time Matt finally made it to the hospital, still in a bit of a daze after his talk with Luna, everyone was back in one piece. There was still healing to be done, and about half the room was actively being tended to by someone, but everyone would be alright. Susanne had a healer pulling off a cloud of miasma still hanging around her head, Liz and the healer tending to her were on the ceiling, and phoenix-Liz was casually fending off a few medical instruments as they kept trying to attack her healer. She still split off a body to give Matt a quick hug, though.

Aster was lying in fox form at the bottom of a crystal sphere filled with swirling snowflakes as a more spirit-based healer treated some Domain straining. She perked up when Matt entered the room, and conjured an illusion of herself to jump up into Matt and Liz’s joined arms, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon filling Matt’s nose as they embraced. After he gave them a quick squeeze, though, Matt turned his attention towards the woman of the hour.

Even if Luna had told him to look at Zack, he was somewhat more inclined to take a serious look at Melinda. Right now, she was tending to Ai’la, the crafter having recently incorporated a bit of her own tech into her arm, after some inspiration and studying of the Federation soldiers. If he’d interpreted what Arthur and Liz had said about them correctly, they were a massive pain to heal properly, often requiring a mix of both crafting skills and healing skills, frequently needing advanced equipment and always requiring tremendous care to not massively screw up the integration. That was even with the former Pather’s Intent smoothing things along and helping her to make repairs on the technological side. Yet Melinda’s talent just… made it work.

That wasn’t something she’d been previously capable of, either. Even just last Tier, Tier 16, her Talent hadn’t properly accepted implants as a part of the spirit and tried to reject them. But since she’d Tiered up a couple years prior, her healing was now completely fine with meshing flesh and metal. It didn’t help with the integration, but once an object was properly in place and part of the spirit, Melinda’s basic healing spells reconnected nerves to rune-circuits, smoothed over disrupted mana flows, even polished the metal. Sure, she wasn’t just using a basic [Directed Heal] anymore, but Matt was confident that the mix of [Feathertouch Healing], [Knit Muscle], and [Chakra Unbinding] that she was using… shouldn’t be able to work that way. Behind her, a pair of other healers in their 20s were helping provide power, but it was still just so elegant.

And she doesn’t even have to be there to make it work, Matt thought. Her healing-aspected [Cracked Miasma] could linger in the body for up to a week, and so long as it was there, it worked with any and all other healing to make it all have that signature Melinda-touch.

Matt shuddered to imagine what it would be like to fight someone even halfway decent, if they were filled with that level of healing. Sure, things like losing a limb… or a head would still require a lot of power to heal, but it was the sort of power which anyone could provide. Matt could provide that power, and he was so bad at that kind of detail work. So far as Matt knew, Melinda’s effects were still fairly prone to anti-healing techniques, the kinds of which Liz specialized in, but both he and Aster still had in abundance. But that was more a matter of Tier than anything. She had been working on increasing her ability to overcome healing resistance, so she was probably pretty good for her Tier.

Matt was just a bad benchmark in many ways.

What would she be like at Tier 21 or 22 when she got her Intent? What about Tier 25, with another Talent to empower her healing? It seemed impossible that her next Talent would be as good as her Tier 3, but what if? What about Tier 35, if she formed her Aspect? Just how good would her healing be?

Good enough to save Eric if she’d been there, certainly. She had to be. Matt refused to entertain the idea that there was nothing they could have done.

Dena wasn’t in the room. The morgue was down the hall, in a room that… well, it felt like they’d never need to use. Though none of them probed the room with their spiritual senses, they didn’t need to. Their physical senses were enough to give a picture as to what was going on, but the faint noises that occasionally made their way through all of the intervening obstructions gave them a decent enough idea.

Matt could understand the feeling.

How could Eric be dead?

It just seemed so impossible.

While he held back out of respect for Dena, his mind still couldn’t help but pick out everyone in the room, and wonder which one of them was next. Who would he take out, to disrupt their cohesion? It felt like he was cursing them, but he couldn’t help but think about it.

They’d been getting reports of ‘unprecedented elite groups’ from the enemy lines for decades, and yet they either never materialized or fell short of the expectation. But it seemed as though the rumors had finally culminated in a group of impressive elites that were ready for them. Previously they’d fought against people who might have been ready for one or two of their tricks, could target a weakness or two, but with two groups of Ascenders, it had never been an issue. Now, he couldn’t help but look at those as possible probes to better set this team up for that initial decisive strike.

Had they gotten sloppy? Luna probably thought as much, even if she hadn’t said it, but until this point, Matt would have said most of their imperfections weren’t a matter of slacking off, just a matter of the intensely chaotic nature of mid-Tier brawls between so many different elites. But now, with hindsight, was there something he could have done differently?

Not charging at Gan Le would be an easy first step, but Matt was familiar enough with the difference to know that wasn’t a mistake, just a gamble that hadn’t paid off. What if they’d still had all their consumables and buff routines at the start? Most of the routine ones had already worn off, leaving just their strongest buffs, but maybe they could have made a difference?

Would they even have attacked if they were fully buffed? If they hadn’t been, wouldn’t that mean that Eric would still be alive? But then he’d just be living on basically borrowed time, unless for some reason he’d been singled out due to some specific thing that happened in this battle that might not have happened in another one.

But then, who would Matt rather have died? He’d been fighting alongside everyone for decades… he didn’t want to lose any of them.

What if Matt had made more of an effort to break free from Gan Le earlier in the fight, rather than waiting until after Eric had died? What if they’d been more defensive and stayed together at the start rather than letting themselves get split apart?

What if, what if, what if?

The what if’s were driving him mad because it was all useless now. It didn’t matter. Eric was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. Matt didn’t even know what he could have done differently enough to ensure that Eric would be alive right now. Their opponents had waited while Team Zero had crushed the local army, waited until their guards were starting to fall, then struck. The sniper had done much the same, but hadn’t even had the decency to wait for the battle to settle properly before acting.

But it had worked. They’d eliminated one of Team Zero’s elites and seriously wounded their mage Ascender. He didn’t know if they’d gotten anyone in response, but Matt could only hope they’d done some serious damage, to knock the gloating smile off their imagined faces.

“-can walk, Allie.” Zack’s voice sighed as a burst of shadows in the middle of the room resolved into him and Allie’s bodies. Susanne’s face lit up, but a steadying hand of the medic treating her kept her firmly in her seat.

Zack’s gaze flickered over the assembled members of Team Zero, but his spiritual perception didn’t leave the room. “He didn’t make it?” he asked, voice heavy.

Matt along with nearly everyone else shook their heads. What more needed to be said?

It was close to half an hour later when Dena came out of the room. Her face was still tear streaked but her eyes were dry. They were also dead and glazed over, which worried Matt.

Matt stood up and was followed by Liz and Aster, who moved in to hug Dena. While he was beaten by Allie, who embraced the woman almost instantly, they waited for their turn. She just stood there through it all, but Matt tried to send as much warmth into his friend as he could, though he also knew it was a futile effort. If he lost Liz or Aster, he would be inconsolable. That didn’t mean he shouldn't try.

Everyone gave their own form of condolences, ranging from Zack’s firm handshake to Sebastian’s own weeping, but Matt didn’t stay for all of them as he headed to the morgue with Aster and Liz.

There was only a single body there, and while Eric was in full military dress and his head had been rebuilt, the place where his spirit should have been just felt like a gaping wound.

His body didn’t look peaceful, because that wasn’t what peace looked like. He was painfully, obviously and unnaturally still. There was no subtle twitch of muscle, no spark of electricity, no sign of life. The mana in his body was sluggish and slowly permeating into his flesh, the bacteria in his gut were slowly starting to win out over the body’s innate defenses, and while his cells were still mostly alive, they were slowly dying off as his blood stagnated.

He was… gone. Now and forevermore.

Matt felt tears run down his face as he clutched Eric's hand, but there was no force holding his back, no matter how much he wished it were so.

It was only a few minutes that he wished had been longer, but he also knew the others would want their own time with Eric before he was cremated. Even that little bit still helped him process everything. It was a final moment together that he was able to share with someone important to him.

He just wished it wasn’t the final one.

It seemed contradictory, but immortals, despite how long they lived, were put to rest as quickly as possible, despite their bodies ability to linger undecayed for decades. Matt didn’t know why the custom started, but it had become a thing and still remained one of the few shared customs across all the Great Powers.

Morgan and Authur entered as they left, so Matt went over to Zack and quietly asked, “Are you ok? I saw you take a hit to the head as well.”

Zack nodded lightly. “My own defenses proved sufficient. While my initial defenses managed to adequately lessen the impact of the bullet, I managed to reinforce my own body with a novel application of my skills, reinforcing my physical body and ensuring my brain remained functioning. I wish to speak to you at some point, Matthew, in regards to how I might defend against similar attacks in the future, as I would much sooner not repeat the experience.”

Aster rubbed Allie’s shoulder, but the other Ascender still looked pissed. Liz must have also been out of the loop as she asked what he was thinking, “Are you ok, Allie?”

Matt knew Allie and Eric were on at least friendly terms, but her body language didn’t seem like sadness at his death so much as anger. Maybe at herself? Matt couldn’t quite tell.

“I couldn’t find the sniper. Just three simulacra halfway to the next damn star on stationary asteroids. Worst of all, the place was rigged to explode the moment I got near. They knew I would go after them, and they set a trap for me.” Her star speckled skin seemed to shimmer for a moment as her eyes burned with anger. “They fucking played us. How dare they? Who do they think they are? They want to play games? I’ll fucking pl—”

Aster put a hand on Allie's head, which stopped the other Ascender. She looked to Dena, who was standing in the corner having asked for a few minutes alone. “It's bullshit.”

Liz nodded, but before she could say anything, a weary looking Darrow came into the room. “Get ready, we are heading back out in five hours, and we need a full debrief.”

There was a general sound of disbelief and protest over yet more lost time off, but Darrow answered it before any concrete words could be spoken. “The attack on us wasn’t an isolated incident. The entire war front went into hyper drive with the Great Powers making deep pushes into Empire space, and we are needed to blunt the wave of attacks in the Tier 25 battlefields. We’ve got enough time for a debrief, but we’re headed back out as soon as Firmament finishes their repairs on our gear.”

Matt winced. Knowing Firmament, and the relative state of their gear, that would be a matter of hours. That… wasn’t a lot of time for them to get back up to full strength. Even if their mana wasn’t going to be much of a challenge thanks to him, there wasn’t much time for most of them to recover the willpower they’d spent on this last fight, let alone before that. He and Susanne in particular would be relatively fine, given how much they could embody their Domains by pushing through, but Liz and Ai’la wouldn’t have time to pursue their personal projects, Aster would have next to no time acting as a winter queen, but Sebastian… Sebastian was decidedly not in full control of himself, which would be both taxing on the man and make it harder for him to recover his willpower.

Still, Matt looked to where Eric’s body lay just a room away, hardened his face, and nodded.

It wasn’t quite vengeance he was looking for, but regardless of his mood, he had a job to do. That being said, if vengeance came in the course of his duties, he wouldn’t be too upset. In the end the best way to ensure he got it was by spending some time to understand where they had gone wrong and plan to do better.

They’d paid a high price to get where they were now, but Matt would see that debt repaid. No matter what it took.