That was it. She was done. John would have loved to have this feel like a victory. He came here, prepared for her to be a mindless monster, to kill her for what she did to Rave. He came here, prepared to help her if she was just as much a victim of happenstance as he was. He came here, and he failed to satisfy himself with vengeance or success.
There was no way to remove her from the site in time, neither could he heal her without Undine. He didn't feel victorious, just tired. Tired of training, tired of this fight, tired of loss and tired of tragedy.
However, fate had one more tragedy prepared for him. Thana's legs gave away under her. Barely, John managed to move in time to catch her. The small woman, so wounded and torn, lay across his arms like a cold piece of porcelain. The pain of his body, the lack of security he had, none of it mattered in that moment. Carefully, infinitely carefully, he knelt down, lowering her along with himself.
