“It’s time,” I say, my voice rough. Emotion wedges in my throat. Anger. Frustration. Resignation. I try to tease out its edges, searching for the guilt I expected.

The crowds beyond the wall surge and shout, chanting for Atlas’s head. Everyone is here. The nobles. The council. I even see some of the fallen Tributes. Atlas owes them all something too.

“We’re ready,” says the executioner, who stands on my other side, and I breathe out one more time, trying to expel the last of Atlas’s poison from my veins.

It is time.

I look behind me at Tyr, who stands between Hylene and Erevan. I watch them both. The past and the future, if only Erevan would stop being so damn stubborn.

Erevan nods and then drops Tyr’s arm, intending to join me. Tyr asked to stay back, and of course, I couldn’t deny his request.

I gesture for Rhyle and Jareth to come and follow the executioner to the platform. My brothers drag Atlas up the stairs. He stumbles along, his body limp, as he stares at me.

“Prince Atlas of Aphelion!” I shout, my voice rising over the increasing patter of rain. “For locking up the king. For impersonating the true ruler of Aphelion. And for crimes against all of us, you are sentenced to death.”

A chorus of boos and cheers greet my words as Atlas’s face turns white. Maybe part of him really thought he’d still get out of this. But after everything he did, I cannot allow him to live.

My brothers force Atlas to his knees as the executioner retrieves his axe, the sharp edge glinting despite the absence of sunlight. I blink. And I blink again, forcing myself to look as my stomach twists, threatening to climb up my throat before slumping at my feet.

“Gabe! Erevan!” Atlas calls as Jareth places a hand on his head and pushes him down. “Don’t do this! I’m your brother!”

Erevan shakes his head and walks forward, bending down to murmur softly to Atlas.

“You are lost, cousin. You had so many chances to undo all of this. Do not beg for clemency, for you have never deserved it.”

They are cold words uttered without mercy. Erevan is true to his convictions, and I admire the fuck out of him for it.

And that’s when Atlas starts to cry. I haven’t seen him shed a single tear since we were boys, but fat tears roll down his cheeks as he realizes there isn’t a single person left in his corner.

This is the end, and I try to drag up sympathy, but all I feel is pity.

My gaze casts over my shoulder to Tyr, who also weeps as he clings to Hylene. Atlas stares at him, and I swear every single person standing in the square feels the accusation that moves between them.