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She looked into the eyes of the villain, the Marquis. A man who didn't fight with fists or guns, but with the cold, bureaucratic cruelty of a banker foreclosing on a soul. The High Table wasn't an organization, she realized. It was the world’s indifference. It was every system that grinds a person down until they are nothing but a debt to be settled.
The final duel. She had watched it three times. Not the shootout—the real duel. The one that happened in the long, silent walk before the first bullet. The rain falling on the steps of the church. The rising sun painting the sky in shades of blood and gold. John and Caine, two men who should have been brothers, walking toward each other to kill one of them. is john wick 4
She looked into the final shot. John, lying at the bottom of the steps, a small smile on his face. The sun fully risen. She looked into the eyes of the villain, the Marquis
The question Marta found herself whispering to the empty room was, after everything, after all that blood and rain and fire… was he finally free? It was the world’s indifference