There is a sick, hollow feeling in his stomach.

They saved Veronica, yes. One person. But all the other innocents, O Discordia...

Time flies, knells call, he thinks. Life passes, so hear my prayer. The old, weighted words of the death-prayer, line by line, pass through his mind. They're in the Lady's white arms now, and that's a comfort.

He looks at Lilly. They were her friends.

Tries not to look at the blood that's still and always trickling down her dead forehead.