The Chapel of Santa María stood exactly as it had six months ago, when Kasper first knelt before its bullet-scarred altar and prayed for strength he didn't know he possessed. Morning light filtered through stained glass windows that bore fresh repairs—patches of newer glass interrupting centuries-old artwork, like hope trying to mend a broken world.
Elena waited in the front pew, her weathered hands folded in prayer. The simple fisherman's daughter who'd pulled him from the harbor looked out of place in the ornate chapel, but then again, so did he. She'd traded her fishing nets for civilian clothes, but her calloused palms and sun-darkened skin still spoke of a life spent on Costa del Sol's waters.
"You came," she said without looking up, though the slight shift in her posture suggested she'd heard his careful footsteps. "I wasn't sure you would."
Kasper settled into the pew beside her, his scarred hands resting on knees that would never quite bend the same way again. The chapel felt smaller than he remembered, or maybe he'd grown larger—not physically, but in the space his presence occupied. Heroes, he'd learned, cast longer shadows than ordinary men.
"I almost didn't," he admitted, touching the fresh scar along his temple. "Part of me thought it would be easier to just... disappear. Leave without saying goodbye."
Elena finally looked at him, her dark eyes taking in the changes six months had wrought. She didn't have enhancement ports to catalog his injuries, but growing up in a fishing family had taught her to read people the way she read weather patterns—by instinct and experience. The weight loss, the careful way he held himself, the silver tracery that pulsed fainter now beneath damaged skin. But her eyes held something beyond concern—something that made his chest tighten with possibilities he wasn't sure he deserved.
"But you're not built that way," she said simply. "Ghost always said you were the type who'd carry the weight of every choice, every goodbye, every person you couldn't save. That's what made you dangerous—and what kept you human."
The mention of his fallen teammate hit harder than expected. Ghost, who'd died holding the line at the processing facility. Circuit, who'd modified their equipment with innovations that saved lives even after she was gone. Scope, whose final shot had given them the seconds they needed to escape.
"They deserved better," Kasper said, the words carrying months of survivor's guilt.
"They got exactly what they wanted," Elena countered, setting aside her tablet to face him fully. "A teammate who'd honor their sacrifice by living, not by dying uselessly for guilt."
They sat in comfortable silence, the chapel's acoustics carrying distant sounds from the capital below. Children playing in streets that were finally safe. Merchants calling out prices without fear of extortion. The mundane sounds of a city learning to breathe again.
"Rivera made his offer official," Kasper said eventually. "Citizenship for my family. Protection, sanctuary, resources if I ever decide to train others."
"And what do you think about that?"
Kasper considered the question, his damaged silver tracery pulsing with uncertainty. "I think he's trying to prepare for a world where monsters like the Director keep appearing. Where someone needs to be willing to walk into darkness so others don't have to."
"And you think that someone has to be you?"
"I think it shouldn't have to be anyone," Kasper replied. "But the world doesn't care what should be. Only what is."
Elena reached for his hand, her calloused fingers tracing the ridge of scar tissue where enhancement ports had been ripped out and surgically repaired. Her touch was gentle but firm—hands that had hauled nets and mended boats, that had pulled him from dark waters when he was drowning in more ways than one. "What if it didn't have to be you this time? What if you chose something else?"
The question hung between them like an unspoken invitation. Kasper saw the life she was offering—a chance to stay in Costa del Sol, to help build something instead of tearing down. To wake up beside someone who understood what he'd sacrificed without needing explanations. To be a hero in daylight instead of a monster in shadow.
"My family," he said quietly. "I haven't seen them in over a year. They don't know who I've become here, what I've done. What it cost."
"They know you fought for something that mattered," Elena said. "The rest... the details... maybe they don't need to know everything. Maybe you can just be their son again, their brother. Let Kasper de la Fuente exist without the Void Killer."
"And if I can't separate them? If I go home and find out that the man they're expecting doesn't exist anymore?"
Elena was quiet for a long moment, her eyes reflecting the kind of wisdom that came from generations of fishermen who'd learned to read the sea's moods. "Then you'll know. And you'll have options. People who care about you, places where you're welcome, purposes that need serving." She squeezed his hand. "But you can't make that choice from here, carrying the weight of a war on your shoulders. You need to go home first. See who you are when you're not surrounded by reminders of what you had to become."
A sound echoed through the chapel's stone corridors, interrupting the moment—footsteps approaching with the careful precision of someone bearing important business. Elena's expression shifted, her fisherman's instincts picking up something he'd missed.
A young man in courier gear appeared, his enhancement ports marking him as Association personnel. He carried a sealed package, military-grade encryption locks glowing softly along its edges.
"Señor de la Fuente?" the courier asked, approaching their pew with nervous respect. "Special delivery from... a mutual friend."
Kasper accepted the package, noting its weight and the subtle tactical modifications to its construction. Not just a delivery—a statement. The courier departed quickly, leaving them alone with whatever message had been deemed important enough to interrupt their goodbye.
The encryption locks yielded to Kasper's biometric signature, revealing contents that made his blood run cold: photographs of his brother Javier's investigation notes. Technical schematics for enhancement technology beyond anything he'd seen. Maps marking locations across three countries. And beneath it all, a handwritten letter on expensive paper.
Kasper,
You've sacrificed more than any man should have to bear. You've earned the right to choose your own path forward.
Your brother's investigation led him to truths about the cyberlitch that cost him his life. I've gathered what he couldn't finish. If you decide this hunt must continue, you'll find me at these coordinates.
But that choice is yours alone. You've already paid prices that would break lesser men. Costa del Sol stands free because you were willing to become what was necessary. No one—not even someone like me—has the right to ask more of you.
Ghost, Circuit, and Scope didn't die just fighting the ATA—they died exposing the larger network that connects to your brother's investigation. Their sacrifice revealed the cyberlitch's hand in everything from Mirage City to Costa del Sol. Their deaths made your eventual victory possible, and their memory deserves to guide whatever choice you make.
Honor them by choosing your own path forward. They died so you could have that choice.
Go home. Heal. Love. Live. The coordinates will remain valid for as long as needed.
If you decide the hunt calls to you, I'll be waiting. If you decide peace is what you've earned, I'll understand.
Some battles can only be fought by those who choose them freely.
The choice, and the time to make it, are yours.
—SC
P.S. - The young woman Elena has good instincts about people. Whatever you decide about the future, don't let that one slip away without serious consideration.
Elena read over his shoulder, her fishing family's education helping her make sense of the technical documents more slowly than enhancement ports would have, but with the same careful attention she'd once given to navigation charts. "This is about enhancement trafficking," she said, her voice tight with recognition. "The same technology that was used in those processing facilities. Someone's continuing the work."
"The cyberlitch," Kasper said, the name carrying all the weight of unfinished business. "The one responsible for Javier's death. For starting this whole nightmare."
"And Sr. Cobranza—whoever he is—wants you to finish what your brother started."
Kasper set the documents aside, his silver tracery pulsing with conflicted patterns. The chapel's morning air carried the scent of old incense mixed with salt from the harbor—past and present mingling like the choices before him. In the photographs, he could see Ghost's tactical planning, Circuit's technical improvements, Scope's precise observations. His team's work, continuing beyond their deaths to provide intelligence for a hunt they'd never see completed.
"Ghost would tell me to think tactically," he said, more to himself than to Elena. "Consider all angles, plan for contingencies. Circuit would want me to understand the technical implications—how this technology could be used, what it threatens. Scope would remind me that precision matters, in shooting and in life choices."
"And what would they want you to choose?"
Kasper looked up at the altar where he'd prayed before his first mission, where he'd asked for strength to do what was necessary. The bullet holes in the wooden cross caught the morning light—scars that told a story of survival, of faith tested by violence and emerging intact. Just like the medallion Elena had pressed into his palm that night at the harbor, when she'd pulled him from dark waters in more ways than one.
"They'd want me to choose freely," he said finally. "To make the decision that let me live with myself, not the one that honored their memory or served some greater purpose. They died so I could have options, not obligations."
Elena stood, smoothing down her medical coat with nervous energy. "Then what do you choose?"
Kasper rose beside her, his movements careful but determined. The weight of the decision settled on his shoulders—not the crushing burden of necessity this time, but the lighter load of genuine choice.
"I choose family first," he said, the words feeling strange in his mouth after months of choosing duty over everything else. "I go home. I see who I am when I'm not the Void Killer, when I'm just Kasper again. I let my parents help me remember what normal feels like."
"And then?"
"Then I decide if normal is enough." He touched the package, the coordinates that represented unfinished business. "If the hunt calls to me, if the world needs someone willing to walk into darkness... I'll know where to find answers. But it'll be my choice, made by someone who's had time to heal, to remember what he's protecting."
Elena stepped closer, her brown eyes holding his with an intensity that made the space between them feel charged with possibility.
"What about us?" she asked quietly. "What about Costa del Sol?"
Kasper reached up to touch her face, his scarred fingers gentle against her cheek. "Costa del Sol will always be home now. Rivera made sure of that. And you..." He paused, remembering the night she'd pulled him from the harbor, the St. Michael medallion she'd pressed into his palm, the way she'd looked at him and seen someone worth saving. "You helped me remember that monsters can choose to be human. That healing is possible, even after walking through hell."
"That sounds like goodbye," she said, though her voice held understanding rather than accusation.
"It sounds like 'until next time,'" he corrected. "If I come back—when I come back—I want it to be as someone who chose to return, not someone who never had the courage to leave."
Elena nodded, her enhancement ports cycling patterns of acceptance mixed with sadness. "Then go. Find out who Kasper de la Fuente is when he's not saving countries or hunting monsters. And when you figure that out..." She smiled, the expression transforming her face from beautiful to radiant. "Consider bringing him back here. Costa del Sol could use a hero who chooses to protect people, not one who's compelled to."
They embraced in the chapel where it had all begun, where a young bounty hunter had knelt and prayed for strength to do the impossible. Now that same man held a woman who'd helped him remember what he was fighting for, surrounded by the peaceful sounds of a city learning to live without fear.
"Thank you," he whispered against her hair. "For seeing the man underneath the monster. For helping me believe he still existed."
"He's always existed," Elena replied. "The monster was just what you wore to keep him safe."
As they separated, Kasper gathered the package from Sr. Cobranza, its weight feeling different now—not a burden, but a possibility held in abeyance. The coordinates would wait. The hunt would wait. For now, it was time to go home.
Outside the chapel, morning sunlight painted Costa del Sol in shades of gold and green. Children played in plazas that had once been battlegrounds. Vendors called out prices for goods that traveled freely through ports no longer controlled by cartels. The transformation was everywhere—a nation reborn from violence into something approaching peace.
Kasper walked through it all, scarred and damaged but healing, carrying the knowledge that some choices were worth making even when they hurt. Especially then.
Behind him, the Chapel of Santa María stood witness to another prayer answered—not through divine intervention, but through human choice. The bullet holes in its walls caught the morning light like stars, scars transformed into something beautiful.
The void remembered its purpose. But more importantly, the man beneath it remembered his humanity.
That was choice enough for now.