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The words hit like a sucker punch. I knew he was talking about all the hunters we'd lost over the years. Using their deaths as justification for his soullessness felt like a desecration.

“That's bullshit and you know it,” I growled. “You saved more people than anyone I know precisely because you cared. Because you saw the humanity in monsters when no one else did.”

“And look where that got us,” Cade gestured around the warehouse. “Four seals broken. One to go before the First Nephilim walks free. Maybe if I'd been like this from the start, we wouldn't be here.”

“If you'd been like this from the start, you wouldn't be Cade Cross,” I snapped. “You'd be just another soulless killer. And I wouldn't have followed you into hell and back.”

Something flickered across Cade's face then, so brief I almost missed it. But it was gone before I could identify it.

“I didn't ask you to follow me,” he said quietly.

“No,” I agreed, my voice dropping. “You never would have. That's the point, Cade. The real you would have died before dragging anyone down with him.”

“Well, the real me did die,” Cade replied, his voice cold. “In hell. And maybe that's for the best.”

“How can you say that?” I demanded, stepping closer, close enough that I could see myself reflected in his empty eyes. “After everything we've been through?”

“Because it's the truth,” Cade said simply. “And for once, I can see it clearly. Without all the... noise.”

“Noise,” I repeated incredulously. “You mean humanity? Compassion? Love?”

Cade didn't answer. He just looked at me, his face a perfect mask of indifference.

“This is insane,” I muttered. “You're not thinking straight.”

“I'm thinking more clearly than I ever have,” Cade replied. “And it's my choice, Sean. My soul. My decision.”

“It's not just about you!” I shouted, patience finally snapping. “What about the people you care about? What about us? The people who care about you?”

“That's emotional blackmail,” Cade observed, unmoved. “And it doesn't change anything. I'm more useful like this.”

“Useful,” I echoed, the word tasting bitter. “Is that all that matters to you now? Being useful?”

“Shouldn't it?” Cade asked, genuinely curious. “Isn't that why we do this? To make a difference? To save people?”

“We do this because we care,” I insisted. “Because we feel their pain. Because we can't stand by and watch innocent people suffer.”

Cade considered this, then shrugged again, that maddening, dismissive gesture. “I can still save them. I just don't have to feel their pain to do it.”

“You're being reckless,” I said, trying a different approach. “Without your soul, you're missing crucial instincts. The gut feelings that have kept us alive all these years.”

“I'm being logical,” Cade countered. “And as I said, it's my choice.”

We went in circles, voices rising, neither willing to back down. But in the end, it resolved nothing. Cade simply turned and walked toward the door, as if the conversation was over.

“Don't walk away from this,” I called after him, my voice raw with frustration.

He paused, hand on the doorknob, and looked back over his shoulder. “We're done here, Sean.”

The door closed behind him with a quiet click that somehow felt more final than a slam. I stood there, breathing hard, fists clenched so tight my knuckles ached.

“Fecking hell,” I whispered, my voice echoing in the suddenly silent warehouse.

Frustrated and raw,I headed to Purgatory an hour later, needing space to think. Not the actual realm of monsters, thank God, but the dive bar that served as a neutral ground for hunters and supernatural beings alike. The irony of the name wasn't lost on anyone who frequented it.

The place was dimly lit, smelling of spilled beer and old cigarette smoke despite the citywide ban. A jukebox in the corner played classic rock just loud enough to make eavesdropping difficult. Perfect for conversations about things that went bump in the night.

Juno looked up as I entered, her dark eyes widening in surprise. She stood behind the bar, elegant hands pausing mid-mix of a drink. Her dark skin seemed to glow under the bar lights, and she'd styled her hair in tight braids that framed her face.