Hours had passed… maybe days, I wasn't sure. The moment I stepped into Alex’s bedroom with her, everything else faded away. That pull between us now, the Primeval bond… whatever it was, it was urging every cell in my body to gravitate toward her.

  I slipped in and out of sleep countless times, only waking for a few hours here and there to connect with Alex on levels that had surprised me. Alex was… surprisingly eager. I knew how much I had been alone before getting close with Autumn, and how much I desperately needed that kind of connection after so long without it, but it was something even greater for Alex.

  I think she hadn’t “been” with someone since she was turned… decades ago. So much had happened to her in that process… unspeakable things had been done to Alex by those young and ruthless vampires. It had made this kind of closeness something that she didn’t want from anyone, only using the lure of it as her own way to hunt down those like the pieces of shit who had stolen everything from her. She was good at it… knew how to flaunt it, make it work for her, but only to kill. She never actually stepped foot into that physical realm of intimacy again. I don’t think she thought she could ever have it in this cursed second life. But then she met me. Two killers of killers bound by monstrously ancient power.

  There was a moment where she randomly asked, “When are we going back down there?”

  I shifted my face to look at Alex as she lay beside me, both our legs intertwined together, her lengthy crimson hair lying over her body in a way that covered her most sensitive places from me. One of her arms was slightly gripping my elbow, not pulling me to her, but keeping tension on me to keep me close to her. Her free hand was between us, and she flexed her hands and fingers with a testing look in her eyes. She was feeling the power in her body, sensing the differences now that the relic of Hunger had been absorbed into her.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I would say immediately… but I think we need to take a minute to figure this out,” I motioned between us to her hand.

  “What do you mean?” Alex asked with an inquisitive look.

  “I don’t know what will happen if we go back down there and you're walking around with a relic of Hunger inside you. You didn’t see it… but there were things down there… countless things I can’t even begin to describe to you, all clawing to get what you have inside you. If you go back down there with me… I don’t know if they’ll come for it again. It may be different now that you “have” it. Maybe when it was unclaimed, out in the open, they sensed it and came running.” I shook my head, “I don’t know.”

  “It’s been a few nights at least since we came back up… if something wanted it, I think they would have found it by now. You think these walls are some kind of supernatural barrier?” Alex laughed at me, truly finding my fears amusing.

  I smirked, “I guess you’re right. But we still need to learn more about it. That… transformation,” I tried to find the right word for it. “It was… something. I’d like to talk to some people before we just jump straight back down into the pits again.”

  “Who would know anything about this?” Alex asked… eyeing me with real scrutiny. I think she could tell something was on my mind that I hadn’t voiced yet.

  I just stared at her for a second, trying to figure out if I was going to lie or let the truth slip, if only slightly. I felt no threat or indication from Death that this could fuck something up. I was starting to think more actively about his intervention and what he had done recently. If my words here could alter his plans, he’d stop me. If he didn’t… then it must not matter in the grand scheme. I said something in my head, actively telling him what I was about to do… just in case.

  I’m going to tell her about you… stop me if I shouldn’t…

  “There’s something you don’t know yet… something not many people know…”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed, her natural green eyes pulsing just slightly, a tinge of blood at the edges as if she could sense what I was about to say.

  “The Primeval stuff I told you already… that was only part of it.” I stopped to gauge her reception, only seeing her eyes narrow further as she stayed lying on her side. “You said that Hunger talks to you… tells you things about me… well, the Primeval I’m tied to?”

  Alex nodded carefully, “Yeah… says it's supposed to be dead.”

  I lifted myself to be on one elbow. “They did kill it… the other Primevals. He was the Primeval of Annihilation, the end of their age. They were all supposed to fall at given times to pave the way for the next world… this world. They refused, turned against him, and slaughtered their end…” I paused for a moment, preparing myself before I got to the heart of the matter. “But it just unleashed the next stage of what was meant to come. The one who controls what I do, who gives me the tasks I'm sent on… he’s the one who brought back this portion of Myordrakien… that’s Annihilation,” I tried explaining.

  “She’s called him that before,” Alex nodded, recognizing the name. Though I could see in her eyes that she was questioning other things I had said, waiting for further explanation.

  “His job wasn’t finished, and he wasn't allowed to die… not fully,” I explained. “There is someone else in this deal with me. You have Hunger inside your head, talking to you, telling you things. It’s the same with me and Annihilation, but there's another aspect to my deal. The third “entity” that is tied in this thing I'm a part of, it’s the same thing that has come for the Primevals.”

  “What can do all that?” Alex asked with true intrigue.

  I tried not to think about it too much and said it quickly, wasting no time. My voice came out between us like a whisper, the words meant only for her.

  “Death…”

  Her grasp around my elbow jerked ever so slightly, and she froze in place at my word, analyzing my face after I said it out loud. She perked up, about to say something, but stopped herself, reflecting on what I had said and how I had said it.

  I waited, wanting to explain more, but I had found in the few times I talked about this with Autumn and Carter, that less was more. There was a reason I had to come to this truth in my own time, because it was a lot to process. An overload of information wasn't helpful sometimes… even if it was meant to explain. Some truths were just too much, and more details didn’t help parse it all together when your mind was straining against something like this.

  “When you say, Death… do you mean…” Alex tried to ask. “Like, literal death?”

  “Not as like… a vague idea… even though sometimes he does feel that way,” I said more to myself in my current situation. I hadn’t heard from Death much since he took his blade from me. “But yea… Death incarnate. The end meant for us all… even the Primevals. That’s what came for them, after they slaughtered the executioner of their age.”

  Alex’s mind was running ninety miles a minute, remembering things we had spoken about in the pits, and things Hunger had shown her inside of her mind, like she had shown me. Memories of that Primeval age, monstrous forms, and terrible dread at the encroaching Death that came for them in the shadows. A lot was going on in her head, and I felt her grip on me lessen. She rolled back away from me, lying straight on her back, and slightly pulling at the blankets beneath us, trying to cover herself. It was more to feel secure… I think. To feel a shred of safety after feeling so vulnerable and isolated at the thought of something as inescapable as the Grim Reaper sitting in the bed right beside her.

  I gave her a minute to process, as I tried to think of what to say next. How should I continue? Though after a minute or so, she surprised me.

  “You’ve… spoken with him?” Alex asked. “Death…?”

  I nodded, “Yes.”

  “He’s the one behind your visions… the names you get?”

  I nodded again, verifying the dots she was connecting as she remembered things I had shared with her in the past.

  “Why does he need you?” she asked quickly. It seemed like a half-formed thought with how fast it came out.

  I began slowly, trying to read her expression as she stared into the ceiling. “He can’t enter this world… not without killing… everyone. His power… he’s somewhere else, but he can see and interact with this world in a lot of different ways. I’m not sure how… but he can. One of those ways… is me. I’m his hand in this world… hunting down those he deems worthy to be slaughtered… those that upset his balance.” I watched her carefully as I said this part. “Usually, it's those that are tied to Primevals, whether I realized it at the time or not. Some people he’s sent me for… I don’t know. If they’re tied to these ancient things… I'm just setting up things for the future… the way others have before me…” I got lost in my own thoughts as I was completely open with Alex.

  “Like who?” Alex asked, slowly glancing back at me, completely human and vulnerable. She wanted to know more of this hard truth.

  “There was this woman named Charlotte Gunderson… a witch tied to an even darker witch from the pits. Her name was Mercy Lewis… but her real name was Mucia. She was old… like really old, and she was tied to the Unseen… a different Primeval than Hunger or Annihilation. Peter was tied to him, too, spreading his power and influence through the world in their own way.”

  “So they all kill people… the ones that Death sends you for?” Alex asked.

  I nodded, “Yes. The visions always show me what they’ve done… and some of the things I’ve seen… It's things so dark that even if he didn’t send me for them, if I found out on my own, I would have killed them with a smile on my face.”

  Alex lifted her hands to her face, examining herself more deeply. “Is that what I’m supposed to be a part of now?”She asked more rhetorically. There was a sadness in her words, like that was not anything she wanted to be a part of.

  Alex only killed vampires, but I killed anyone I, or Death, deemed worthy of Annihilation. I knew this was one of the reasons Alex was so resistant to me when we first met, because she thought I might be someone worthy of her attention. Someone she might need to kill herself.

  Alex didn’t say anything for a long moment, only slowly rolling away from me. She turned her whole body, wrapping herself more in the blanket as she turned to face the wall. She reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the small picture frame that rested on its face. It was the photograph of her and Jerry from way back before she was turned. It had been face down since the moment I stepped into this room days ago, but now she lifted it up, kicking out the little felt stand on the back to keep it up.

  I watched her carefully, trying to figure out what was happening with her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, knowing what I had said was a lot.

  Alex didn’t respond; she just stared into her picture. I waited for a response, but none came for a long while. The whole time we sat in the silence of the dark room, I thought about what else I should tell her in this rare moment of complete transparency. I came up with nothing. I had said it all. She knew everything up to this point. I was Sam… bound to a Primeval monster by Death himself… to kill in this world. That was my purpose… that was the truth. I think she realized that it was as dark and lonely as the life she had lived for decades, with no end in sight for me.

  When she spoke again, it was another surprise, “Death… that’s all I’ve wanted for so long. An end to all this shit…” she trailed off, her voice sounding thicker with emotion. “I never wanted any of this,” her words seemed directed at the photograph, not me. “I never wanted us to be apart.” She was speaking to Jerry in that moment… not me. “I just want to come home.” Her words were raw, choked with emotion, and helpless vulnerability.

  Tears of blood slowly slipped from the corners of her eyes, their scent filling my nose like I could see them with my eyes. My senses gauged her, trying to see if this was something to do with the relic of Hunger, but it wasn't. There was nothing strange going on other than the moment of grief she was going through.

  I started to wonder if this wasn't just a reaction to the words I had said, but to the things we had done over the last few nights. The closeness she had allowed herself to have after decades alone. Maybe it was too much of the Primeval urges pushing us together, and now that things had calmed down, Alex was returning to her normal mindset. I gritted my teeth at the thought, because as much as my relationship with her confused the shit out of me, I valued it more than I ever realized.

  Alex… the real Alex, was one of the strongest people I had ever met. The most human person wrapped in the shell of a vampire. She never fell to the urges of the monster inside, redirecting those urges at the evil of the world. Killing to stop monsters, never giving in. She was real, and she never let anyone else into her life. All anyone knew of her was the image she portrayed of herself. Maybe Martin had gotten close, but she treated Martin as a recovering alcoholic, just waiting on him to slip again… then she’d be there. If he took a human life, she’d take his.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I could only imagine the struggles she was going through as she battled against this new aspect that the relic of Hunger would be imposing on her. Maybe it was too much, and she felt herself slipping or something.

  I wished there was something I could do for her in that moment… but I… I had nothing. I had so many questions… but I was too afraid to ask them. I didn’t want to make things worse for her in that moment.

  We stayed like that for maybe an hour. I tried to figure out what to say next, but eventually Alex had fallen asleep again. This time, it wasn’t the comfort we had found in each other that put her to sleep; it was the grief of the life she had lost, feeling like she had betrayed Jerry somehow. She clutched the small picture frame to her chest with both hands like it was a lifeline. She stayed so still in the dark as she slept… she looked peaceful, like she was dreaming of something that made her happy. I hoped it was about Jerry.

  I slowly got up, doing my best not to disturb the peace she had thankfully found after her inner turmoil got the better of her in that moment. I found my clothes, and I dressed myself slowly in the kitchen. Without a word or a sound, I slipped out of the sliding glass door and out into the night.

  The night air cut against my skin as I stepped out of Alex’s apartment and into the wintry city. The echo of Alex’s touch still clung to me in a way I couldn’t shake. For nights, I had drowned myself in her, but now I needed to give her space. She had things to figure out on her own, and so did I.

  There was a different pull dragging me from her side. The relic of Hunger pulsed inside her, and even when she spoke, even when she slept tangled against me, I could feel it… an uninvited guest gnawing at the core of her body. I had to find answers. Had to figure out if it was affecting her in some way… if Hunger had some kind of sway inside her mind. If so… we would have to figure out what to do about it.

  Death had answers, or so I hoped. He had to. If anyone knew what would happen when Alex gave herself to that thing, it would be him. But Death had grown scarce, working in the background while I did his bidding in the real world. Alex wasn't a concern to him… I didn’t lie to myself and try to think he'd help me with her. But I did think he’d be honest about things if it didn’t mess up his plans. I just had to talk to him… or get him to talk to me. If I get him… Abel would have to do. I didn’t like the thought of going there, but there was no time left to hesitate.

  I stretched my senses, let the powerful pulses inside me surge outward in concentric ripples, reaching out into the city in all directions. Soundless to anyone else, my senses raced down alleys and streets, bouncing back to me with answers. Each friend I pictured in my mind’s eye was painted into the cityscape by their unique impression. Carter, Eleanor, Autumn, the Chasse home, like a lighthouse burning on the horizon, as many of them were there. All were where they should be.

  Then there was Frank. He wasn’t anywhere near them. Not in West County, not where he usually remained at his home, or further out at Jane’s. I found him downtown, by himself, as everyone else was where I figured they'd be. I could sense that something big was happening at Carter’s as I could sense many people I was unfamiliar with. Frank should have been there… I figured. But he wasn't. That worried me.

  However, he was alive and his pulse beat steadily, so I wasn't worried. I could sense him inside a large building downtown, moving slowly like he was just walking around. Maybe he was doing something for their construction company, but the hour was strange.

  I pressed harder, my awareness stretching farther than I usually dared. I swept wide, brushing against rooftops, sewers, the deep veins of the city where the forgotten things still crawled. And then, almost by accident, I cast myself out for one name I didn’t expect to hear back from. I felt the presence of Charles when I expected to find nothing.

  The reply was immediate, like a gun with a hair trigger. It surprised me with how fast my senses picked him up… and how close. He was near… not gone with his family, not safe from the reach of the pits like he was supposed to be. He wasn't even steady. His signal jittered in my mind, erratic, cutting in and out as if his movements bent and tore through the city’s underbelly. Every time my pulse pinged him, he was someplace new: sewers, storm drains, alleys, a sidewalk. He was like a rat running from something.

  I stood on the empty street, shadows clutching at me like claws. I wasn't that far away from Alex’s yet, still a few blocks from her apartment complex. Charles was close… too close, and I didn’t want him with this easy access to Alex while she slept and was in such a state. So, I moved to intercept him.

  My body carried itself before my thoughts could catch up, instincts clawing me toward him. My dense muscles surged, pushing my legs faster as I made my way through an alley and up the wall of a tall office building. My talons slid out as I used them to gain purchase within the coarse bricks, finding my way to the roof. My eyes blackened as I scanned the darkness of the cold winter streets. I say darkness, but even the shadows were lit up in an oddly beautiful way. The snow that covered everything reflected the white moonlight, illuminating the once darkened areas of the city.

  I spotted him quickly, and he looked ragged. Charles was not the same man that I had seen recently, and the memories of what he was supposed to be doing worried me. Whatever dragged him away from getting his family out… whatever made him stay, it wasn’t good. He wrenched a storm drain cover off and slipped beneath the city again in some strange, frantic way I couldn’t place. He was acting so strangely… so out of character. It didn’t make sense… like he was mentally flailing… panicking.

  I descended from the rooftop like a ghost, landing silently in the snow before racing over to the same metal disc that Charles’ silver head had just disappeared beneath.

  The stench of damp stone and iron rot curled in the air as I dropped down into the storm drain. My sonar pulses had led me straight here, down into the labyrinth of forgotten pipes and stagnant water where the city’s snow melted and flowed away.

  I moved faster than footsteps could echo, cutting through the dark like some kind of unbound shadow. I finally stopped… his outline etched against the tunnel’s dim light. The only remnant of light was the periodic injection of moonlight that crept beneath the streets through the storm drains on the streets, though most were packed with dripping ice.

  “Charles,” I barked out quickly, trying to get his attention.

  The word snapped him to stillness, like a wire drawn taut. He stopped and slowly turned to face me in the circular tunnel beneath the city.

  When he turned, relief washed across his face so violently it twisted into something almost hysterical. His silver hair hung wildly over his eyes, more animal than man, and his demeanor felt less wise with age and more… primal. He looked like a man who had been drowning and had just broken the surface. Ragged breaths were accompanied by sweat plastered to his brow, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. It was an eerie and very odd thing to see on a vampire’s face. Human in a way that was haunting.

  “Sam,” he gasped, voice cracked. “Finally… finally. I’ve been looking for you. You don’t know how long… how many times they’ve… I couldn’t pin you down, but I knew you were back up… out of the pits. I could sense you… but not…” His gaze trembled on me, half in awe, half in fear.

  I stepped forward, and that’s when I saw it. In his hand, clenched so tight his knuckles had gone bone-white, was a spike. It wasn’t metal, or stone, but something older. It was pitch black, its color forgotten from age. Now it just looked like something so ancient it was petrified. It wasn’t smooth, wasn’t shaped by hands… it had grown this way, jagged and cruel, a length of bone with a killing edge. Its surface was cracked, veins of something impossibly darker crawling beneath its surface like tar trapped in the marrow. Even from where I stood, I could feel it… It was wrong. A weight that didn’t belong in this world. It hummed like a broken nerve, and every instinct in me screamed against it. It felt… Primeval. It felt like it was tied to the monstrous world of titans that I had only glimpsed images of… and it shouldn’t be here.

  I didn’t fear the thing, but I instinctively knew that it might have some kind of effect on me that I wasn't willing to test. I felt Myordrakien tense slightly, only to warn me of the seriousness of what my Primeval was feeling. I listened, and I took caution in my mind.

  Charles stumbled closer, shaking his head as though trying to justify even holding it. His panic poured from him in waves, so raw it carried no deceit.

  “They know, Sam,” he said, voice ragged. “The elders. They know what you did in the pits. They know it was me who led you, me who showed you the way down… sent you down there.” His hand trembled around the spike, but he didn’t lower it. “They have my family… the ones I care for, Sam… they’ve got them!” His voice broke into a hoarse cry. “The only way I get them back… the only way I save them… is if I kill you…”

  The words hung between us, damp air pressing them like stone on my chest.

  Charles stood strung out, shaking with fear, with guilt, with desperation, clutching that nightmare weapon like it was both his curse and his only hope. I felt an odd connection with the thing, and I couldn’t place why, exactly. I felt Myordrakien piecing something together in my mind, but it wasn’t there yet. I couldn’t understand what he was processing.

  I glanced down at the dark, threatening spike. I could feel his intent… feel his will to move forward at me as fast as he could; aiming it straight for my heart. It was in that moment that I truly felt sorry for him. He was a man on the edge, backed against it with the fear of something greater than his own life on the line.

  Charles’s knuckles creaked as he shifted the spike in his grip. His shoulders were hunched, his whole body coiled like a spring wound past its limit. He was about to move. The black bone drank in what little light the tunnel offered, its jagged point glinted faintly, hungry, like it wanted to be buried in flesh… in some form of life.

  His eyes locked on me… bloodshot, wild, yet steady in a way that chilled even me. He had decided… and there was a look of… inevitability.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he rasped, voice breaking against the stones. “Don’t you dare pity me, Sam. This is the only way. It’s the only chance they’ll give me to see them again.”

  I didn’t move, didn’t posture. I only looked at him… trying to see the man in this silver-haired vampire that stood before me. And what I felt in him wasn’t fear… it was sorrow.

  “Charles,” I said quietly, voice carrying through the dripping dark. “I can help you. If they have your family, I can get them back. Just lead me to them… We’ll kill them together. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to let them use you… or your family.”

  His laugh came out cracked and bitter, like broken glass. He shook his head violently, almost striking himself with the spike. “You don’t understand! You never will! They’re elders. We don’t fight them. We don’t bargain with them. You don’t win against them. You survive by doing what they tell you… and if I kill you…” His jaw clenched, bloody tears glistening in his hollow eyes. “…then maybe they’ll let them live.”

  “Charles…” I tried.

  “They already know I betrayed them,” he whispered. “They already know I led you down there. My blood’s marked. I can feel it.” His voice cracked again, rising to a desperate shout. “Don’t you see? They’ll never stop until I’ve paid in blood! Mine, or yours!”

  His arm shook as he raised the spike, the black length of bone quivering in his grip, as if it longed for me. I could sense that this was not the powerful, old vampire that he once was… this was a man defeated. He was struggling… grasping for straws of anything that might save his doomed family.

  I stood there, still, the pity in my chest sinking deeper with each second. I could sense him unraveling… every pulse of my senses brought back his frantic heartbeat, hammering itself into a corner. He was beyond me… in a state I had never known; not by choice, but by inevitability. A man cornered by something too vast, too ancient, to ever break free from, and he had already made his choice.

  Charles moved first. One instant, he stood trembling, spike clutched in white-knuckled desperation, then he was on me, storm drain air splitting with the snap of vampiric speed. His body blurred, his leap carrying him across the tunnel with feral intent, the pitch-black spike aimed straight for my chest. His face was twisted… not with hate, but with a sorrow so deep he’d never be the same.

  For the smallest sliver of time, I hesitated. My mind clawed at escape, at some way to twist this moment into mercy. Some way to save him. To save his family. But mercy was gone. The only way to save anyone was to end this… him… or them.

  I stepped forward, my talons extending and eyes blackening, growing with Primeval strength. His body collided with mine, and I drove my right arm clean through his chest.

  Bone cracked as his spine shattered, and then his flesh tore. His momentum died instantly as my talons burst out of his back, holding his still-beating heart in my fist. It clung to the false second life of vampirism that kept him alive, but only for a few moments.

  Charles gasped once, eyes wide with shock, blood spraying his lips as it ejected from his mouth with the force of my blow. The spike clattered uselessly from his hand and skidded into the water below, its murderous intent unfulfilled.

  He sagged against me, body impaled on my arm, trembling only for a moment before going limp with no ceremony… no emotion. It was just over…

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, lowering my head, my voice heavy with every ounce of pity I had left. “I’m sorry for you. For them. For everything.”

  Blood splattered down from my arm and into the icy waters of the storm drain, running into the cesspool of filth we stood in. I dropped the heart behind him, then slowly pulled my arm back through, clenching my teeth at this brutal act I had just done.

  I held him there for a second, his lifeless weight hanging from me. “I’ll make it right, Charles,” I swore, my voice rising, thick with rage. “I’ll kill them for what they’ve done. Every single one of them… elder or not. I’ll kill them all.”

  The storm drain carried my words into the dark, echoing like a vow carved in blood and aimed at the pits below us.

  I slowly lowered Charles into the icy waters of the tunnel and let him go into the abyss beneath the city. His body started to float away, and I felt a strange inevitability building from this moment.

  After what I had just done, I knew there would be consequences. Not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but the ripples were already spreading. This was the start of something that would come back around and crush me when it was ready.

  Charles’s blood still clung to me, hot and slick, dripping from my arm like guilt I couldn’t wash away. I stood there in the stink of the storm drain, body steaming with death, and the thought cut into me sharper than any weapon could…

  What would Martin say when I told him I’d killed his friend… his creator? What would Carter say? Eleanor?

  They trusted me, they held onto me as part of their family, and now I’d torn a hole through one of their own… very far removed… but he was one of them in a way. He had come to their side at least two times that I knew of. How could I explain this? How could I make them understand what had happened? The truth was, I wasn’t ready for any of it.

  “Take the weapon.”

  The voice thundered in my skull, a growl dripping with ancient hunger. Myordrakien’s command left no room for argument. My gaze dropped to the water, to where Charles’s heart had slipped from my claws and where the bone spike lay half-buried in filth, waiting.

  I crouched down, the stench of rot pressing into me, and reached into the muck. My fingers closed around the spike, dragging it free of the water’s grip.

  It was heavier than it should have been. Its surface was jagged, rough, biting into my palm, yet it pulsed faintly… alive in its own way. The black marrow within seemed to thrum against my skin, whispering things I couldn’t quite hear.

  I stared at it, feeling its wrongness seep into me. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny it. It was tied to me somehow. Myordrakien was watching it through my eyes, studying it with a focus that made my skin crawl. My darker side knew this thing. And for once, I didn’t question.

  I slipped the spike inside my jacket, close to my chest, its chill pressing against me like it was stabbing into me. It was the seriousness of what I’d just done, as well as the odd object itself.

  Then I turned my back on Charles’s broken body. Step by step, I left the sewers, rising out of the dark and into the cold grip of snow and winter. The air felt no cleaner up here, the sky no wider than the enclosed, smothering atmosphere that I had created by murdering Charles. My path hadn’t cleared… it had only narrowed and sharpened. But reality kept dragging me forward. I had to find answers… for Alex.

  Everything else would come as it did…