BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA
The Debt. I’d almost forgotten. In the chaos of living, of dying, of loving, the original sin had faded. The power we’d stolen, the chaos we’d unleashed, the interest compounding in silence. It was always there, a line item on some infernal balance sheet, and now the collectors had come.
But they aren’t collectors. They are assessors.
One of them steps forward. Its face is androgynous, ageless, utterly devoid of malice. Or pity. “Lily. Arthur. The obligation has come due. The principal. The interest. The collateral damage. The sum is… considerable.”
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