The shockwave continued to expand. It rolled off the edge of the tall tower. It washed over the entire Iron Citadel. It swept through the courtyards and the deep dungeons. Everywhere the light touched, the Ancient Rot vanished. The bubbling rivers of silver poison surrounding the castle turned into clear, clean, beautiful blue water. The dead, black trees in the Eastern Wastelands suddenly sprouted tiny, bright green leaves. The plague was cured. The source was broken. On the roof, everything was quiet. The Black Sun was gone. The sky was clear. For the first time in fifty years, bright, shining, beautiful stars appeared in the night sky over the East. Ash stood up from the iron chair. She brushed the gray dust off her dirty dress. She looked around the quiet roof. She saw the old man who used to be the Shadow Lord, crying softly in the corner. Then, she saw Rick. Rick lay on his back near the edge of the roof. His arms were spread wide. His dark gray coat was torn and covere

Ash shook her head. Her pure white hair fluttered in the wind. "You do not see the empty spaces," Ash told the smart man. "You only look at the full cups. You only look at the blood."Ash pointed her small, pale finger at Rick’s chest. "His cup is empty," Ash explained. "But the cup is not broken. He just poured his water out. He needs someone to pour water back in."Isaac frowned. His logical mind tried to catch up with the child's strange wisdom. "He needs life energy," Isaac deduced. "But my magic is white magic. It is deletion. If I push my energy into him, it will erase him completely. I cannot heal him. I am an auditor, not a doctor."Ash turned her head. She looked out over the edge of the roof, looking down into the deep valley below the Iron Citadel. "You do not have to heal him," Ash said softly. "The green light is coming back. The army is here."Isaac stood up quickly. He walked to the edge of the roof. He looked down. His pale gray eyes widened in absolute shock. Down in

The cold wind blew across the Eastern Wastelands. It carried the smell of dry ash and old rain. But for the first time in fifty years, the wind did not feel cruel. It felt clean. At the bottom of the giant Iron Citadel, three hundred healers and thousands of refugees stood in the dirt. They were cheering. They were crying. They held their small lanterns high into the dark sky. In the center of the crowd stood Rick. The Ghost Doctor was alive. His heart was beating with a strong, steady rhythm. The people had shared their life energy to restart his pulse. He leaned on a wooden walking stick. He smiled at Luna, who stood right beside him. Suddenly, a loud, heavy sound echoed from the dark fortress. The massive metal doors of the Great Elevator slowly slid open at the base of the black tower. The crowd went completely silent. The cheering stopped. Brin, the tough woman in the dirty leather apron, raised her heavy iron pipe. Jace, the teenage boy, grabbed his sharp piece of rusted

Cia wore a dirty gray shirt. Her hands were rough from years of pulling heavy metal levers. But today, she was not working. She held a small bucket in her left hand. The bucket was filled with glowing, toxic green reactor fluid mixed with white ash. In her right hand, she held a thick, dirty paintbrush. Cia walked up to a smooth, clean metal wall. She dipped her brush into the glowing green bucket. She carefully painted a large, perfect circle on the wall. She drew the jagged heartbeat line. She drew the lotus flower. Then, she began to paint the letters underneath: HE HEA..."Hold it right there, defect!" a loud, booming voice echoed in the narrow alley. Cia froze. She dropped her paintbrush. It hit the metal floor with a soft splat. She turned around slowly. At the end of the alley stood ten Elite Hunter-Killers. They wore massive, thick silver armor. Their faces were hidden behind shiny metal masks. They held heavy red electric rifles.The red laser sights swept across the dar

Luna smiled softly. She stepped closer to him. She reached out her one strong arm and gently touched his dirty, tired face. "Look at them, Rick," Luna whispered. She pointed her hand at the cheering crowd. "Look at their eyes."Rick looked at the crowd. He saw Kael. He saw Cia. He saw the old man who had smiled at the gun. They were not looking at Rick like lazy sheep waiting to be saved. They were looking at him with fierce, unbroken, powerful pride. They held their iron pipes and their bone needles tightly. "They are not waiting for you to save them, Rick," Luna explained gently. Her brown eyes were full of deep, profound wisdom. "They have already saved themselves. They beat the guards. They took the gates."Luna squeezed his shoulder. "They do not chant your name because they want you to do the work," Luna said. "They chant your name because it gives them the courage to do the work themselves. You are not their doctor anymore, Rick. You are their symbol. Let them have their sym