It must have been days before Mark was up and aware again. It was impossible to judge the passage of time

Then he woke up for what truly felt like a final time, more rested and well than he’d felt since his accident.

However, he woke up to the reality surrounding him, that his uncle was a murder, his family was dead because of the man, and if Mark didn’t do something soon, he would be too. Because Mark was beginning to see the big picture, and he understood that he was the last loose end. He was the last piece of string that needed to be pulled free, and there was no way his uncle would hesitate once the moment was right. That moment was coming quickly, as well.

Soon enough the door to the room was opening and Mark watched his uncle stroll in, wondering if this was the moment.

“Mark,” his uncle said, sitting at the chair by his bedside, face drawn tight.

Mark tested the waters with his body, anything to avoid looking at his uncle. The idea of being in the same room as the man made him sick. So, ignoring the man, Mark flexed his fingers under the blankets, and when he found it happened easier than he’d expected, he tried his wrist.

“Focus,” his uncle said, right around the time Mark was discovering he could move his toes and feet, too. Mark still wasn’t sure he could get off the bed, or even sit up, but he wasn’t fully paralyzed now, and that was something. “We need to speak. Have you regained your memory? About the car accident?”

Lie, Mark knew he had to lie. He had to lie to save his own life, and he had to be convincing about it. So he shook his head, even though the pieces of everything that had occurred were coming back to him slowly and surely. He remembered the car accident, he remembered the argument with his uncle before it. Admitting any of that would get him killed faster than his uncle likely had planned.

“I had hoped you would recover it,” his uncle said, but now it was so easy to see through the façade presented in front of Mark. It was so easy he almost felt ashamed for ignoring it in the first place. His uncle wasn’t upset he couldn’t remember, he was thrilled.

“Car accident?” Mark asked again, trying not to move at all on the bed. The last thing he needed was his uncle to know how much control he was regaining.

“The humans attacked you, remember” his uncle said, “they ran your car off the road. It flipped and you were injured. They were attempting to harm you before you could reach the safety of your school. This attempt was meant to be deadly, as have those in the past. They were nearly successful this time. You’re very lucky you have the blood of the first vampire in your veins, and you’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for. I’ve never been so thankful for such a thing.”

“Oh.” That was … odd of his uncle to say. The fact that they were descendant directly from the first vampire, something that only a few of the council families could claim, was usually his uncle’s pride and joy. But more interesting was how his uncle was somewhat complimenting him on his resilience. Why did it seem all the sudden that his uncle was glad he’d survived?

His uncle leaned forward in his seat. “Mark, you’ve been asleep for a very long time now. Almost a week.”

Mark forced himself to show no reaction. Of course he’d been out. His uncle and the other man, the doctor, had been forcibly sedating him every time he woke, promising it was for his own good. But it hadn’t been. It had only been so that they could keep him where he was, and under their complete control.

A thought seized him and he all but shouted, “The vote!”

Suddenly it made sense why his uncle was glad he was still alive. The man needed him.

“Calm down,” his uncle said, and Mark watched him look towards the black bag that was in he cabinet next to Mark’s bed. The black bag that was slowly stealing Mark’s freedom and life away from him. “The council has been made aware of your accident, and of the fact that for your safety and health, you can’t be moved right now.”

The truth was, Mark believed that he was hurt. It was still painful to breathe. However he didn’t think for a second that he couldn’t be allowed to get up and travel to make the vote. Not with how important it was. No, his uncle just didn’t want to let him anywhere near others, where Mark could have the chance to ask for help.

“A representative is coming,” his uncle said.

Mark did his best to blink slowly, act as if he were still numbed, and buy himself time. “For what?”

Tersely, his uncle said, “For the vote. The council’s clerk. He is trusted by all members of the council, likely the eldest living vampire in existence, and honor bound to deliver your decision to the council in your stead. He’ll speak to you for a minute, you will give your vote to him, and he’ll take it back to the council. You never have to leave this room.”

Mark had a feeling if his uncle got his way, Mark would only be leaving his room in a body bag. After all, he had a death certificate already prepared, apparently. “When?”

“Soon. Which is why we have precious little time to discuss the vote you will be giving.”

Lie. He had to lie again. He had to lie to avoid being killed immediately.

“I … I thought I knew how I was going to vote before,” Mark said, hoping he sounded convincing. “But now … after being attacked again …”

“I know, I know,” his uncle said, reaching forward to sooth his fingers through Mark’s hair. This touch sent shivers through Mark and made him want to get sick. It was so fake and so disgusting. “Especially in light of recent casualties.”

Mark startled. “What?”

Concern that was so believable Mark almost forgot his uncle’s treachery, crossed the older man’s face as he said, “Your match was in the car with you, Mark. Zhou Mi was traveling back to school at your side. My men were able to save you just in the nick of time, but the humans claimed the life of your match, just as they did your family. You should take solace in the knowledge that he fought bravely, defending you until the end. He did not go without an honorable fight.”

No. Mark couldn’t believe it. There was … absolutely no way Zhou Mi was gone.

“No,” Mark said, unable to keep the anguish from his face.

“Yes, my dear boy. I’m so sorry.”

Zhou Mi couldn’t be dead. He was so incredibly strong. He was strong and smart and he was a pureblood, which put him leaps and bounds ahead of any of the vampires or humans that his uncle probably had hired to attempt to kill him. Zhou Mi wouldn’t be taken down so easily. Not Zhou Mi.

Zhou Mi had promised to always be with him, to always be beside him. No matter what kind of relationship they ended up having, they would have one. Zhou Mi had said and Mark had believed.

His uncle continued, “It hurts me deeply to see you have everything take away from you, Mark. But maybe now you truly understand the threat that the humans are. Voting to end the treaty is the only sensible thing.”

Mark wanted to lunge up out of the bed and strangle the life out of his uncle. He wanted to rip his throat out with his teeth. The beast was brewing inside Mark like it never had before, and Mark had half a mind to let it go crazy.

His uncle reached for his hand and Mark kept his fingers perfectly slack. “I say this to you, Mark, knowing you have only a few people left in your life that you care for. If you vote against that I’m urging you to, something terribly Might happen to Henry. Or to that boy of yours, Jackson Wang.”

Without the admiration and uncompromising loyalty that Mark had previously felt for his uncle, he was able to much more easily interpret what the man was saying. And without doubt Mark understood that his uncle was promising him if Mark failed to vote the way his uncle wanted, Henry might be a target, and Jackson certainly would be. Mark knew that his uncle would kill Jackson in an instant just to hurt him. Just to get at him for an imagined slight. And Henry might be a victim as well, considering as of late Henry had been breaking away from his father.

Mark couldn’t let anything happen to either of them. Henry and Jackson were really the only people Mark had left, especially if the impossible was true about Zhou Mi.

“I trust you’ll make the right decision?” his uncle asked.

“I …”

“Mark.” His uncle’s face looked strained all of the sudden, almost pained. “I would like you to know that I, like you, am intimately familiar with making decisions that seem impossible. I have spent, as of late, my life being dictated by actions I don’t wish to make, but must make all the same. This is the penance of our family, and now you have to pay it. If I could spare you, I would, but there is no escaping the choices that must be made to save those we love.”

Mark frowned at the words. He felt like he was missing anything.

“You are making this decision,” his uncle insisted, “to protect those that need such protection. Is that absolutely clear? You personal feelings have no place in this matters. This is about the greater good, and about fulfilling debts.”

Burdened by confusion, Mark had to close his eyes, feeling dizzy again.

“Think,” his uncle mentioned as if it were a casual topic of conversation, “of Amber in her delicate state. It would be devastating if anything happened to her at the moment, or to the father of her child. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for anything happening to your favorite cousin, correct? That would place an unimaginable amount of strain on her, at such a trying point in her pregnancy.”

Mark tensed. How had he found out? How had he possibly found out?

“I’ll make the right choice,” Mark rushed to say. If anything happened to her, anything at all, or if something happened to the baby, and Mark could have prevented it, he would never forgive himself. And Henry … Henry would likely never be the same again. Henry loved Amber just as much as Mark’s parents had loved each other. It was a timeless, unflinching love, and Mark had to protect it.

“Good boy,” his uncle said.

Mark believed with every bit of his heart that his uncle would hurt Amber and the baby to force Mark’s hand. He believed it. This was, after all, the man who’d taken out nearly his entire family’s line of succession for whatever plan he’d concocted.

“I’ll go see if our esteemed guest is here, then,” his uncle said, standing with a flourish. “You just lay here and rest.”

Mark was going to kill him.

He’d never been so certain of anything in his life, but Mark knew, he was going to kill his uncle.

The representative for the council, who apparently was the oldest living vampire in existence, certainly looked the part. He swept into Mark’s room slowly, but with deliberate footsteps, face wrinkled from time, hands folded together in front of him. Mark was only thankful he hadn’t brought his apprentice, Lu Han.

Mark liked the old vampire immediately, more than amused when the man turned to Mark’s uncle who was attempting to enter the room as well, and said, “Your previous, inexcusable actions have left you barred from the council’s vote casting. You will wait for our business to be concluded outside.”

Mark’s uncle made a distinctly insulted face, but eventually turned to leave, closing the soundproof door behind him.

“I’m ready to cast my vote,” Mark said, head bowed in defeat, when the representative questioned him.

“You understand the implications of casting your vote for either choice?”

By now Mark could move his arms, his legs, his head and most of his torso. He was almost free from the affects of the medicine that had been pumped into him for almost a week.

“I understand,” Mark said. He knew what he had to do, even if there were sacrifices that had to be made. Even if he hated himself for it afterwards.

Slowly, the old vampire nodded. “Then cast your vote, and know with confidence I will carry it back to the council.”

Mark choked it out, never more ashamed in his actions for those he’d just condemned.

It wasn’t his uncle that returned to see him, but rather the doctor, reaching for his ever faithful black bag.

“Tired?” the doctor asked with fake cheeriness. He reached for an amber liquid this time, the bottle resting next to the clear liquid that Mark always received to put him out. They were going to give him something different this time. Something was changing.

Mark gave him his best, withered look. “When will I be able to move again?”

The doctor’s hand paused, and he questioned, “Your paralysis is still in effect?”

Mark gave a huge, forced yawn. “Yeah. But I’m still so tired.”

“Interesting,” the doctor said. “We thought you’d be recovering more quickly. Perhaps you’re regressing due to a complication I haven’t been able to deduce. We’ll have to watch you carefully.”

To Mark’s confusion, but utter relief, he closed his eyes, faking sleep and he was believed. There was nothing added to his IV, no additional medicine that would end up being the cause of his death as it paralyzed him to whatever came next.

He heard the doctor mumble, “Sleep well, Prince Mark. With what time remains, sleep easy.”

Mark was going to kill the doctor, too.

With the protective blinds pulled tight in his room it was impossible for Mark to tell what time of day or night it was the next time he was awake. He only knew that he felt stronger than ever, he remembered in better detail climbing into the car with Zhou Mi.

Zhou Mi. Who they said was dead. Who Mark couldn’t believe was dead. He refused to accept that possibility.

Movement in the room caught Mark’s eye and he fought against his instincts to roll towards the threat. He reminded himself he was supposed to be paralyzed. He couldn’t give anything way before he was ready.

Doctor Piper, one of his uncle’s cohorts, was moving steadily towards him, a single syringe in hand and a final look on his face.

This was it.

“I just woke up,” Mark complained, trying to sound as petulant and whiny as possible. “And I’m feeling much better.” He balled his fingers into a fist under his blankets and prepared himself.

“You’re recovering nicely,” the doctor observed, flicking the syringe he’d just filled. “Maybe we misjudged your progress.”

Mark asked carefully, “What’s that?” His eyes jerked to the syringe. Whatever was in it was likely meant to kill him. If it got in him, it would.

The doctor replied, “This a little something extra to your sedative. This is something to help the healing process along. You’ll feel much better after. You’ll go to sleep for a long while but everything will be fine afterwards.” He paused to give Mark an odd look. “Have faith.”

Mark took in a deep breath. It still hurt to draw in oxygen, but it was less so than it had been before.

“Where’s my uncle?”

“He’s gone out on business,” the doctor said, reaching for Mark’s IV. “I’m afraid he wont’ be back for a while. You understand, right? He’s a very busy man.”

With all the of the strength he had, absolutely everything in reserve, and all the sheer determination Mark had ever felt, he sprung forward.

Siwon had said he was bringing help. Mark hadn’t heard from him in forever, but Siwon had also said that Mark had to do something to save himself, too. And this was the moment, with his uncle out of the house and the most mobility he was ever going to have. He had to act now, or never, and he was only going to get one shot at it.

Maybe he just got lucky. Mark didn’t have time to stop and consider it. He only knew one second he was on the bed, and in the next he was landing a frighteningly accurate punch to the doctor’s jaw.

They both toppled backwards, Mark dragging half his bedding with him, and then they tumbled over each other for a good distance, Mark punching again, kicking and scratching. He let loose all his stored energy, fighting for his life, trying to recall all of self defense and martial arts classes he’d taken.

And for just one second, one precious second, he thought he had the upper hand.

The swift, potent kick that landed to his ribs took the breath out of Mark. It made him see stars, feel the sudden urge to vomit, and lose his senses completely.

He felt heavy hands wrap around him in a crushing bear hug that soon tossed him to the ground. And then an even heavier weight was on his chest, causing him excruciating pain as it bore down with what felt like a ton or two of force. His wrists were pinned to the floor of the bedroom by the huffing doctor.

“Prince Mark,” the doctor huffed out, bracing himself forward and exhibiting even more strength as he squeezed Mark’s wrists more harshly against the floor. “You don’t understand. Please. You don’t understand.” There was fear and worry on the doctor’s face as he fought to keep control of the situation. “You must listen to me.”

Mark kicked out. He flailed and struggled, but the doctor was too heavy on his chest, and his already spotty vision was starting to darken around the edges as he struggled to in air. He couldn’t get himself together. He couldn’t reach his beast, he couldn’t fight back at all.

It seemed hopeless, and he could scarcely believe that this was how it ended. With his murder. There’d be no justice for his family. There’d be no punishment or vindication. There’d only be death.

“I’m not trying to hurt you!” the doctor barked out, and as if it was a show of good faith, he let go of Mark’s wrists. He sat back, alleviating some of the pressure, and looked terrified of what he’d done. “But you’re going to ruin everything! Do you have any idea what we’ve all risked for you, and you’re going to ruin it! Prince Mark, your uncle is risking his life--his everything--by trying to sa--”

“Traitor!”

Mark was at the end of his tolerance, feeling himself already starting to slacken, when one of his hands hit something. He was starting to think slower, think less, but after some time he realized he was gripping the syringe that the doctor had been handling only minutes earlier.

It was his salvation.

Mark gave one last, desperate heave with everything left in him, bucked the doctor up enough that he could lunge forward, and he slammed the syringe into the neck of the man attacking him, pushing the plunger down.

The doctor slammed himself to the side with a shout of surprise and pain and Mark dragged in sweet, precious air, chocking and gagging and hardly believing that it had worked.

By the time he looked back to the doctor the man was three feet away, curled onto his side and not moving. His eyes were closed, mouth slack and to Mark he looked utterly dead.

Mark heaved himself up to his hands and knees and coughed out, “I am not weak. I am not that easy to kill.” He felt like crying with the words, like they were something he had to prove to not only himself but the whole world.

“Focus,” he told himself, coughing again, needing to lean heavily on the wall just to stay on his feet. He wasn’t paralyzed anymore, but he’d spent a week lying in bed, letting his muscles atrophy. His legs felt like jelly and his feet like cinderblocks.

But he had to keep moving. He had things to do.

It took an embarrassing five minutes just to catch his breath enough to leave his room, and even when he was free, inching his way along, he was making excruciatingly slow progress. Eventually it was easier simply to crawl, dragging himself along when his ribs burned and protested so much that he could hardly get the air in fast enough.

Mark almost thought he imagined the huge boom that rocketed through the house, shaking down to the foundation. It sounded like a mortar going off, like a bomb, and Mark felt the rattle through to his bones.

He pulled himself down the hallway that attached to his room and to the nearby railing. He could see his uncle’s men darting down below, shouting into the radios they wore, obviously listening to something chattering in their ear pieces. Until now they’d absolutely kept their distance, lurking away from the property, much like the men who’d guarded his family before the fire had. This was the first real look Mark was getting at most of them.

They were likely halfbloods or even less, bribed by money, and Mark could almost see for certain with how they moved slower than a pureblood vampire. But they’d still be formidable opponents. Any of them. And Mark was sure they had orders not let him leave the property.

He’d have to kill them too.

It felt so easy now, and the worst part, Mark considered, was that he felt no shame. He felt nothing at the idea of taking their lives to save his own.

A second boom rocked the house and Mark was too close to the stairs. Most of the men down below were gone now, but as he toppled down the steep staircase, trying to stop his decent with his hands, more than one remaining noticed him.

They trained their guns on him instinctively and Mark tensed, trying desperately to find a way out of the situation as he lay dazed at the bottom of the first landing, aching from the fall.

His head was still swimming. He couldn’t get enough air and he wasn’t even sure he could get to his feet again. He was spent, utterly spent, and the three men in front of him were advancing on him.

“That the kid?” the one on the far right asked, eyes raking over Mark. “I thought the doctor was supposed to be bringing him out?”

They were discussing their orders quickly but Mark could hardly pay attention to them, taking note of the nearby hallway that was probably close enough to make a run for … if he could just get up. If his legs would work. If he could breathe enough for the run.

He couldn’t get up. His legs wouldn’t support him.

He felt like a failure.

“Take him into custody,” another of the men ordered. “And make it quick. There are several confirmed intruders and we--”

Mark flinched back as a hurricane blasted its way through the room in a haze of red mist. Something hard slammed over him not for the first time that hour, but here was something distinctly different this time. His head was cradled protectively as he fell flat on his back and the form crouching over him was careful to put absolutely no pressure on him. Mark was infinitely thankfully.

“You realize,” Jackson said from above him, “that I’m going to make at least half a dozen damsel in distress jokes a day after this. By the way, your uncle is an , I take back all the time times I implied Zhou Mi was, and hey, you look kind of horrible. Still hot, but kind of horrible, too.”

Mark opened his eyes fully to the beautiful sight of Jackson shielding him.

Mark knew he’d caught him completely off guard when he leaned up suddenly to kiss Jackson. The younger boy’s lips were slack against his, but it was enough for Mark who’d thought he’d never see his boyfriend again. Or anyone else, for that matter.

A voice cleared from behind them and Mark’s eyes widened.

Bloody and just the slightest bit disheveled, Zhou Mi stood, three bodies other in various parts scattered around him.

“Holy ,” Jackson remarked with unbridled respect. “Dude, did you do that with your hands? Wicked.”

Mark had only just stretched his arms out for Zhou Mi when he was being swept into a hug. He ignored his ribs and even Jackson, crying out, “I thought you were dead. They told me you were dead.”

Zhou Mi held him tightly for a minute before drawing back and promising, “I would have come for you sooner if I had been able to. I’m sorry.”

Jackson put a hand on Mark’s back and said, “We totally would have stormed this place days ago and rescued you, but your uncle isn’t someone we thought we could tangle with, not until he took most of his men earlier tonight.”

Mark looked between the two of them, almost feeling like he was in a dream. “What are you two doing here? How did you know to come?”

Jackson said, “I thought we just established we’re rescuing you.”

“Together?”

The last word was directed squarely at Zhou Mi who inclined his head and told Mark, “You are more important than anything else.” He added just after that, “Siwon managed to contact us several days ago. He confirmed for us the information we needed to come for you.”

Mark could have wept with relief. “Siwon. Is he okay?”

A dark look crossed Zhou Mi’s face. “He was injured very badly. It pains me to tell you I believe he is gone.” Mark in air sharply through his teeth as Zhou Mi promised, “I will tell you everything I know as soon as we have the time. But we need to move now. We need to move quickly. There may be more resistance before we’re through.”

When another explosion sounded somewhere outside, Mark and he questioned, “Did you just blow up my uncle’s house?”

“That,” a loud voice announced, “would be us. And yes we did.”

Mark barked out a laugh at the sight of Minho and Changmin making their way into the foyer, several boys with them. They all looked terribly menacing, but also a bit like angels. Maybe avenging angels.

“You two blew up my uncle’s house?”

Changmin gave a shrug. “Kyuhyun said we could do whatever was necessary to get you back.” He nodded to Jackson and said, “And apparently bringing this one with us fell into that category, along with the others. Kyuhyun said you might need the support.”

“Certain, was he, of your success,” Mark commented.

Minho shrugged, “He always is. It’s his gift.”

Huh? Mark wondered about that one.

Minho must have seen it on his face, because he smiled a toothy grin and said, “Don’t worry about it, kid. Just know that Kyuhyun trusted the people who came with us to get you.”

One of the boys behind Changmin flashed Mark a victor sign and called out, “We haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Dongwoo. Hoya and I couldn’t miss out on this, but seriously, sorry about blowing up some of your house. It’s a really nice house … well, it was …”

This was Dongwoo? And that meant the other, scary looking boy was Hoya?

Hoya in question inclined his head towards Mark. “I hope things won’t be this exciting in the future. Dongwoo gets too excited when there are explosives involved.”

“I thought this was an apt time for them to prove their skills,” Zhou Mi said quickly, tracing his fingers along Mark’s arm as if he was starved for the touch. “This is what they’ve been employed to do. Though I admit, I didn’t suspect their first attempt at protecting you would be against your uncle.”

Mark gave as shudder and asked, “Where is Kyuhyun? Is he here?”

“No,” Minho offered up, head cocking as he listened for anyone else who might plan on crashing their reunion. “He’s with the council. They’re casing their votes very soon. And he thought it might look suspicious if he wasn’t there.”

Tipping further against Jackson who held him in a precious way, Mark moaned out, “Kyuhyun was right the whole time. My uncle was going to kill me. He tried. I just … I can’t believe it. It hurts so badly to know that Kyuhyun was right and I ignored him because it wasn’t something I could believe.”

“Hey,” Hoya called out, body tensing up. “We need to move soon. We’re too exposed here, and Prince Mark looks like he needs medical attention.”

“Where is my uncle?” Mark demanded. “Where is that traitor?”

Zhou Mi said flatly, “Your uncle left the property several hours ago. Do you know where he’s going?”

The vote it had to be.

“We have to go,” Mark said, gesturing for Jackson to help him up. “We have to go after him! He’s headed directly to where the council is voting.”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked kind of horrible,” Jackson said gently. “You need to rest. You need to get checked out, too.”

Mark gave him a thunderous look. “I just spent a week being forcibly sedated before a doctor attempted to kill me. I’ll rest when I’m dead. But right now we have to go after that murderer, before the vote happens.”

“Why?” Zhou Mi asked apprehensively.

“I don’t like the sound of where this is going,” Dongwoo interjected, standing shoulder to shoulder with Hoya.

“Because I already voted,” Mark said desperately. “My uncle had the council clerk come to me so I could vote from here. And I think it’s safe to say that with my vote being the tipping decision, the is about to hit the fan.”

Minho gave a curious look and asked, “Your uncle is the guy who killed your sister? Kyuhyun’s match? The girl he was head over heels in love with and planned to marry?”

Mark nodded. “He did. He killed my family and I can’t let him get away with it.”

“And,” Changmin cut in, “if we catch up to him we can kill him?’

Jackson, acting like Mark’s legs, helped him up. He wasn’t very steady, but he was standing, and that was something.

“No,” Mark told him, making his words an absolute vow, “when we catch up to him I’m going to kill him. I’m going to personally rip his throat out and watch him drown in his own blood.”

Jackson frowned. “That shouldn’t be as hot as it is, right?”

Zhou Mi gave an honest shrug, “Debatable. You are a vampire, even if your blood is diluted.”

Jackson rolled his eyes at something that was probably meant to be a detriment.

It was Changmin who decided on the spot, “That’s good enough for me. Say, Prince Mark, your uncle seems like a big enough douche to have a garage full of cars he never drives. What do you say we steal a couple and get to the airport?”

“I say,” Mark told them all, “that I’m the head of the fourth family, no matter what my uncle thinks he can get away with, and those cars in the garage outside to your left, are mine. You’re welcome to any of them, as long as we get moving now.”

Changmin and Minho gave synchronized nods and headed out with Hoya and Dongwoo falling in behind to secure the area like they’d been doing it for years.

Mark caught Zhou Mi’s sleeve before they could follow and said, “Zhou Mi, we have to find Henry fast. My uncle knows about Amber. He made threats. He’ll hurt her and you know who, if we don’t do something.”

Zhou Mi helped Jackson guide him down the last couple of steps and said, “I believe in this situation, I’m already ahead of you. They are safe, I promise you. All three of them.”

Mark exhaled loudly in relief.

“Let’s go get that uncle of yours,” Jackson said, supporting Mark giving him a reassuring smile of utter brilliance.

Mark finished, “And end this once and for all.”