Chapter 19 - The Final Calculation
Arthur let out a guttural, cosmic scream that was swallowed by the storm. His body seized as three hundred years of stolen time siphoned out of him in a matter of seconds. His bespoke tuxedo hung loosely on a frame that was rapidly shrinking, calcifying, and decaying.
His hair turned white, then fell out in clumps. His skin withered into parchment-thin husks that began to crack and dissolve under the pounding rain.
"No... my balance... my empire..." he rasped, sinking to his knees on the helipad, his hands grasping vainly at the empty air as if trying to catch the seconds slipping through his fingers.
"Your empire was built on borrowed capital," Victoria said, towering over his decaying form, her posture immaculate despite the storm and her bleeding hand. She reached down, picked up her black pocket ledger, and thumbed to his page. With her own blood-stained finger, she drew a single, clean diagonal line across his name.
"Zero," she declared.
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Arthur Sterling crumbled into a pile of fine gray ash, identical to the remains left behind in the library at Blackwood Manor. The wind swept across the helipad, scattering his dust over the edge of the skyscraper into the abyss of Manhattan below. His corrupted green ledger burst into spontaneous blue flames, turning to cinders in seconds.
The supernatural storm ceased instantly. The violet clouds snapped apart, revealing a clear, silent night sky dotted with calm stars. The heavy iron chains binding the helicopter vanished into thin air. The balance was restored.
