"Some monsters are born. Others are made by the ones they tried to protect."
The world rebuilt itself in fragments.
Heat first.
Then sound.
Then pain.
When I opened my eyes, the night sky stretched endlessly above me—black and heavy, sprinkled with dying stars. The scent of burned asphalt clung to my lungs. Elias knelt a few feet away, breathing hard, his hands pressed to the cracked ground as if steadying himself from a fall that shouldn't have been possible.
We were no longer in the city. The broken overpass loomed behind us like the skeleton of something long dead, its steel ribs reaching for the sky. Around us stretched miles of nothing but scorched earth and scattered ruins.
"What just happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
Elias wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. "Lucen happened."
The name felt like acid on my tongue. "Who is he?"
Elias rose to his feet, his silhouette cutting through the thin mist. "He was once the right hand of the Conclave. A hunter. Trained to kill anything that defied their order."
"And you?"
"I was his equal."
I blinked. "You were one of them?"
"I was," he said quietly. "Until I met you."
Something inside me twisted. The way he said it—like it was both confession and curse—made my chest ache.
He turned away, scanning the distance where faint lights shimmered at the horizon. "They'll come for us soon. Lucen doesn't fight alone."
I pushed myself up, unsteady but stubborn. "Then we run."
He shook his head. "We can't. You used too much energy in the last surge. Your body won't hold another awakening so soon."
I hated how right he sounded. My muscles ached like they'd been torn apart and stitched back together. Every heartbeat echoed through my bones like thunder.
"Then what?" I asked. "Hide?"
"For now," he said. "There's a place north of here. An old hunter's safehouse. Warded. Hidden from their magic."
He offered his hand again. The gesture had become something familiar between us—part protection, part silent plea. I hesitated, then took it.
As his fingers closed around mine, warmth seeped through the chill night air. The contact was electric, grounding. Dangerous.
We walked through the wasteland until the ruins gave way to a cracked highway. Old cars lay abandoned, their metal frames rusted into ghosts of a forgotten time. In the distance, a single light flickered—a gas station sign half-buried in vines.
"That's it?" I asked, skeptical.
Elias nodded. "Looks ordinary for a reason."
Inside, the air smelled of dust and rain. The shelves were empty, but a staircase at the back led to a hidden door beneath the floorboards. He pressed his palm against it, and a faint blue sigil glowed under his touch.
The ground shifted with a low hum. The door opened.
We descended into a room that looked like a mix between a bunker and a chapel—walls lined with old runes, candles flickering in glass jars, and a single desk cluttered with books written in languages I didn't recognize.
Elias dropped into a chair, exhaustion seeping through his composure. I could see the blood still drying along his arm.
"You're hurt," I said quietly.
He glanced at the wound as if noticing it for the first time. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing." I tore a strip from the hem of my hospital shirt and moved toward him before I could overthink it. He didn't stop me when I wrapped the makeshift bandage around his arm.
For a moment, we said nothing. The air felt too thick with everything unspoken.
Finally, Elias broke the silence. "You shouldn't care so much."
"Too late," I murmured.
His hand caught mine before I could pull away. "You don't understand, Aiden. Caring about me will destroy you."
I met his gaze, defiant despite the tremor in my voice. "Then let it."
For the briefest second, something cracked in his expression—an emotion too raw to name. But he looked away before I could see it clearly.
He stood, crossing to the desk. "Rest. You'll need it."
"What about you?"
"I made an oath once," he said, his voice quieter now. "To protect you. Even if it means becoming the monster they think I am."
The candles flickered. Shadows stretched across his face like scars.
I watched him, unable to look away, even as exhaustion pulled at me. "And if the monster wins?"
He smiled faintly, without humor. "Then maybe it deserves to."
The silence that followed wasn't peace. It was a pause before the storm.
And I couldn't help but wonder—when it came, would Elias stand with me… or against me?
Sleep didn't come easily.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the fire again—cities burning, wings of flame unfurling above a blood-red sky. A voice whispered in the chaos, soft but merciless.
"You promised me eternity."
I woke up drenched in sweat, the faint glow of the pendant pulsing like a heartbeat against my chest.
Elias was still awake, sitting at the desk with a book open before him. His dagger lay beside it, cleaned and polished. The flickering candlelight carved sharp lines into his face—too beautiful, too tired, too haunted.
He looked up when he felt my gaze. "Nightmares?"
"Something like that."
He nodded slightly, then closed the book. "They're not dreams, you know. They're echoes. Fragments of your past life bleeding through the seal."
I frowned. "The seal?"
He leaned back, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "Every soul reborn carries seals—boundaries to contain what shouldn't exist anymore. Yours has three. The third broke when you awakened your flame. That means two remain."
"And when those break?"
His jaw tightened. "The world burns again."
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking into me. "Then why not stop it? Kill me. End it before it starts."
Elias was silent for a long moment. Then, very softly, he said, "Because I couldn't the first time."
His gaze met mine, and I felt it—the sharp pull between us, electric and dangerous. There was pain there, yes, but also something older, deeper.
"Tell me the truth," I whispered. "Who was I to you?"
He stood, walking toward me until the space between us vanished. The air shifted—heat and memory colliding.
"In another life," he said quietly, "you were the reason I turned against heaven itself."
I couldn't breathe.
His hand lifted as if to touch my cheek, but he stopped an inch away. "You were my ruin, Aiden. My beginning and my end."
The words hit like thunder. I wanted to deny them—to push back—but my heart betrayed me, racing in recognition of something I couldn't remember.
Elias turned away sharply, pacing toward the stairs. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Remembering." His voice cracked slightly. "The Conclave will sense it. They feed on resonance—on emotion strong enough to shake the veil. Every time you feel this… they get closer."
I took a step toward him. "Then maybe I don't care."
He froze. "You should."
The tension broke like glass.
A sound—metal scraping stone—echoed from above. Both of us turned toward the stairwell. Another sound followed. Then another.
Elias's hand went instantly to his dagger. "They've found us."
The candles flickered violently, the runes along the walls glowing blue, then red.
"How?" I hissed. "You said this place was protected!"
"It was. Until you called my name."
The words chilled me.
He moved fast, shoving a bag into my hands. "Run north. Follow the river until you see the old cathedral. Don't stop. Don't look back."
"What about you?"
"I'll buy you time."
"No—"
His grip tightened on my shoulder. "Go, Aiden. I swore an oath to keep you alive. Don't make me break it again."
Before I could answer, the ceiling above us shattered. Dust and stone rained down as cloaked figures descended through the breach, their eyes burning white.
Elias pushed me back just as the first spell struck. The room erupted in light.
He moved like a storm—dagger flashing, fire glinting along the blade—but there were too many of them. The air filled with the hiss of magic and the crack of energy meeting steel.
"Go!" he shouted again.
My heart screamed against the command.
But something else—something ancient inside me—rose like instinct. The pendant flared, and blue fire rippled across my skin.
The nearest attacker lunged, and I raised my hand. The flames answered, wrapping around him in a cyclone of light.
For a heartbeat, I thought I was in control. Then I saw Elias's expression—shock, fear, awe—and realized the fire wasn't stopping.
The entire bunker shook. The runes along the walls began to melt.
Elias's voice cut through the roar. "Aiden! Stop! You'll bring the roof down—"
"I can't!"
The flames reached the ceiling. The sigils flared one last time—and everything went white.
When the light faded, the bunker was gone.
Ash fell like snow.
And in the distance, through the smoke and ruin, Elias's voice echoed once more—faint, but unmistakable.
"Aiden… don't let them find you."
Author's Thought: