“I failed, brother,” he said, and the tears were hot and bitter. We all fail. It’s why we don’t walk alone. And for the first time in a long time, Ironfist didn’t feel alone. He felt himself lifted in strong arms. No one had lifted Ironfist since he was a young child. He clung to his brother like the lost, and wept, and he wept as a man weeps: weak and unashamed.
