New York City, Sep­tem­ber 2014, marks a piv­otal moment in Addie’s life. After years of entan­gle­ment with Luc, a being from the dark­ness, and falling deeply for Hen­ry, Addie faces the cul­mi­na­tion of her choic­es. The city, alive and ever-per­sis­tent, mir­rors Addie’s rest­less heart as she makes her way to the Mer­chant bar in the small hours, seek­ing solace in the clar­i­ty of deci­sions made in soli­tude. Order­ing a shot of tequi­la, Addie con­tem­plates the weight of her deci­sions through the sim­ple act of spin­ning a wood­en ring on the bar counter—an action that’s inter­rupt­ed by Luc’s sud­den appear­ance.

Luc and Addie’s inter­ac­tion is charged with unspo­ken his­to­ries and the heav­i­ness of impend­ing deci­sions. Addie’s time with Hen­ry is encap­su­lat­ed in her reflec­tion of love’s com­plex­i­ty; it was an inter­twin­ing of beau­ty, pain, vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, and the sheer raw­ness of human con­nec­tion, con­trast­ing sharply with the eter­nal, unchang­ing exis­tence she shares with Luc. Luc chal­lenges Addie, prob­ing the depth of her feel­ings and inten­tions, embody­ing both temp­ta­tion and tor­ment.

As their con­ver­sa­tion unfolds, Addie, with a mix­ture of courage and des­per­a­tion, pro­pos­es a trade to Luc. This propo­si­tion isn’t mere­ly a nego­ti­a­tion for Henry’s life and mem­o­ry but a tes­ta­ment to her growth and resilience. She offers what she believes Luc desires most, not for her own sake but for Hen­ry’s. This act, lay­ered in sac­ri­fice and love, reveals the com­plex­i­ty of Addie’s char­ac­ter and her jour­ney.

Luc’s response, marked by a rare hes­i­ta­tion, hints at the pro­found bond and con­flict between him and Addie. This moment cap­tures the essence of their twist­ed, cen­turies-span­ning relationship—a dance of pow­er, free­dom, and long­ing. Addie’s resolve, fac­ing the cul­mi­na­tion of count­less nights and choic­es, sets the stage for a con­fronta­tion that tran­scends the mere mechan­ics of deals and bar­gains. It becomes a bat­tle for essence, mem­o­ry, and the right to a future untaint­ed by past pacts.

This chap­ter, set against the back­drop of a sleep­ing New York City, spot­lights the eter­nal human themes of love, sac­ri­fice, and choice. Addie’s journey—filled with moments both ten­der and harrowing—culminates in a piv­otal show­down that is as much about over­com­ing exter­nal dark­ness as it is about con­quer­ing the shad­ows with­in.

In the dwin­dling light of March 18, 2014, in New York City, Hen­ry and Addie con­clude their jour­ney through art exhibits with a dis­tinc­tive finale. They relin­quish their blue rub­ber bands, step­ping into a unique space delin­eat­ed by plex­i­glass walls, akin to a library’s stacks but devoid of books. Here, they are con­front­ed with a sim­ple, yet pro­found premise encap­su­lat­ed by the over­head sign: YOU ARE THE ART. The room is filled with neon paint and the walls bear the tes­ti­mo­ny of pre­vi­ous vis­i­tors through var­i­ous marks and scrib­bles. Addie, engag­ing with the exhib­it, attempts to leave her mark as well, but her efforts dis­ap­pear almost as quick­ly as they are made. This tran­sient nature of her cre­ation vis­i­bly sad­dens her, prompt­ing Hen­ry to inter­act unique­ly with the exhib­it; by com­bin­ing their efforts, they dis­cov­er that togeth­er they can leave a last­ing imprint.

The col­lab­o­ra­tion leads to Addie expe­ri­enc­ing a pro­found break­through. For the first time in cen­turies, she can make marks that per­sist. Through Hen­ry, Addie unleash­es a tor­rent of draw­ings, man­i­fest­ing her joy, her sad­ness, and her essence on the walls. Most sig­nif­i­cant among these is her name, “Addie LaRue,” inscribed with hes­i­tant hope. The name, unlike her ear­li­er attempts, remains intact, mark­ing a turn­ing point for her.

This act of per­ma­nence ignites a change with­in Addie, fos­ter­ing a sense of hope and con­nec­tion pre­vi­ous­ly elu­sive to her. She pro­pels Hen­ry away from the exhib­it and the crowd, guid­ing him through the streets of New York, back to Brook­lyn, back home. The jour­ney unfolds with an inti­mate urgency, their shared moment at the exhib­it solid­i­fy­ing a tan­gi­ble bond between them, sym­bol­ized by the green paint on their inter­twined fin­gers.

Upon their return, Addie’s new­found hope com­pels her to seize a note­book and a pen from Henry’s col­lec­tion, urg­ing him to etch her name once more, this time on paper. The act of writ­ing her name, wit­ness­ing it defy dis­ap­pear­ance, marks a com­mence­ment of some­thing new, some­thing hope­ful. Through Hen­ry, Addie finds a way to leave a mark, not just on the plex­i­glass walls of an art instal­la­tion, but in the very fab­ric of her exis­tence. The chap­ter clos­es with the words “This is how it starts,” sig­ni­fy­ing the begin­ning of a new chap­ter in Addie’s long and ephemer­al life.

Dur­ing our walk back to the city, Taee decid­ed to take an alter­na­tive route to show me the depar­ture sta­tion for trav­ellers and emi­grants with­in their com­mu­ni­ty. This exposed me to their unique means of trans­porta­tion, divid­ed into land and aer­i­al vehi­cles. The land vehi­cles var­ied great­ly in size and pur­pose, rang­ing from sim­ple car­riages to mov­able homes equipped with sev­er­al rooms, all pow­ered by the mys­te­ri­ous force known as vril. This same force also pro­pelled their aer­i­al crafts, which resem­bled nei­ther bal­loons nor con­tem­po­rary air­craft but rather seemed akin to boats equipped with helms, rud­ders, and large wings or pad­dles for nav­i­ga­tion.

I observed a con­voy embark­ing on a jour­ney, pri­mar­i­ly car­ry­ing goods rather than pas­sen­gers, des­tined for a neigh­bor­ing com­mu­ni­ty. This high­light­ed the extent of com­mer­cial exchange between the var­i­ous Vril-ya tribes. Inter­est­ing­ly, their econ­o­my does­n’t rely on pre­cious met­als for cur­ren­cy due to their abun­dance but rather uti­lizes a form of mon­ey craft­ed from a spe­cial kind of fos­sil shell, a rem­nant of a bygone era. This unique shell is used for small­er trans­ac­tions, while larg­er deal­ings are man­aged with bills of exchange and metal­lic plates sim­i­lar in func­tion to our ban­knotes.

Fur­ther­more, despite the con­sid­er­able rate of tax­a­tion with­in this tribe, com­pared to their pop­u­la­tion size, there seemed to be a uni­ver­sal accep­tance and lack of com­plaint regard­ing this mat­ter. The tax­es col­lect­ed are invest­ed back into the com­mu­ni­ty, financ­ing many projects essen­tial for their advanced state of civ­i­liza­tion and the main­te­nance of their exten­sive pub­lic ser­vices, includ­ing their sophis­ti­cat­ed meth­ods of illu­mi­na­tion for the vast ter­ri­to­ries they inhab­it. This sys­tem of tax­a­tion and expen­di­ture reflects the har­mo­nious and util­i­tar­i­an ethos that under­pins their soci­ety, dis­tinc­tive­ly mark­ing the Vril-ya’s advanced and com­mu­nal approach to gov­er­nance and social wel­fare.