The room is small, too small for the amount of chairs cramped around the table. A single old lightbulb humming over the table. A thick savoury and slightly burned scent comes from the open kitchen. It smells like garlic, canned meat and survival. Melissa sits on the long side of the scared table she wears a simple black dress. Her legs crossed under the table and her finger tapping on the pan she holds as she. Ponders over the notebook. Yesterday she finally got her last abilities. Alexander argues loudly with the pot on the stove as he tries to cook something edible with the supplie's they could scrounge up. “i swear this thing is sabotaging me” he grunts “you're frying old rations, canned beans and I don't want to know what else... I think you do the sabotage yourself” Romy's voice comes quiet, dry. She is different since Genoa. haunted despite her smile. She looks at Melissa “you had your final rituals yesterday? What stone did you use?” she ask curious and the rest of the table looked at her as well. Beside Romy there is Mateo Rojas, the silver that fought of Silas, and a hand full other operatives. Faces tired, eyes older than they should be. This is what's left of their old branch after Genoa. She shakes her head “nothing remarkable. Mostly things to add to my survivability. Feast, shield, barrier. Then they threw a stone of the hand and one of swiftness in to the mix. Lastly I was lucky and got a stone of the song.” she answers, not entirely comfortable with the attention “A bit random but not bad stones.” Rojas comments. “are you happy with the abilities you got from them?” he asks and Melissa nods “yes... though I will need to train to get the full potential out of them.” she looks down at her notebook where she put her thoughts and feelings about the new abilities in to words but does not comment further. Before the others can push her for more details Alexander slaps bowls in front of everyone. The stew is uneven, slightly burnt. But after a month of spirit coins no one complains. They eat. Spoons scraping against ceramic. Melissa watches the steam wafting from her bowl. It moves like her Echo when it waits for her will. She feels stronger now. With all her ability's unlocked. It frightens her as much as it excites her.
The silence is heavy as they eat until Rojas takes his mug and stands. Everyone looks up at him. He raises the mug, half filled with something that is clear, harsh and smells like boat cleaner. The others stand as well.
“To Genoa” he calls. No grand speech or theatrics. Just that. Two words. Melissa straightens. Alexander smiles. Romy's fist grabs the mug harder.
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“To those who held the line”
“To those who bought us time”
“To those who didn't make it out”
Rojas continues. “To Bernadi” Romy adds and others call out their own lost. Names that are lost but not forgotten. There is a long moment of silence before they drink. It burns on its way down. The way it should.
Finally they sit again. The quiet stretches, not uncomfortable. Just heavy. Alessia, one of the younger operatives clears her throat and finally asks. “So... what now?” the question cutts like a dropped knife. No one answers for a long moment. Outside, somewhere distant, sirens wail, they are routine now. Sabotage and assassination attempts from the crimson concord probing the network nearly every day. Rojas sighs “Rome fortifies. Berlin is still stable. Evacuation of civilians has still the highest priority. But command's talking about counteroffensives by winter. If we make it that long.” Alexander grins as he leans back, balancing his chair dangerously on two legs, the wood groaning under his bulk.
“Winter is fine. I look good in a coat” Melissa shows the echo of a smile but Romy stares at him “We talk about the collapse of Europe as we know it” she admonishes but he just shrugs “Yeah? And I'm still here.” he looks at Melissa, sincere now “we're still here.” she looks down, her face hidden behind a curtain of her black hair then quieter than usual she says “i got stronger.” she looks up, her abyssal eyes move from one to the other “we got stronger.” no one interrupts her “and we might not be winning. But as long as we grow stronger, we are not losing either. They are quiet for a moment then Romy speaks. “Power does not automatically mean victory. But its leverage” Roja nods “We hold ground, defend cities. Then we make them pay... That's what's next”he says. Alexander knocks on the table with his knuckles in assent. And when we stop reacting?” the big man asks and Roja meets his gaze “Then we take something back.” Melissa feels something change in the air. Its not hope, not yet. But direction. She looks around the table. At those that fought in Genoa, that screamed and bled against the vampires. They are no real army. Just a handful of people too stubborn to die. She lifts her glass again. The others follow “Then next... we start fighting!” she says and the rest shouts their agreement and downs their drinks.
Outside Rome breathes through the night. Inside they sit on the Table. Not victorious. Not certain. But together... and for now that is enough.
