The light was blinding. It wasn't just brightness it was presence, seeping into every corner of the hangar, wrapping around the walls, the floor, even the air itself.
Sebastian shielded his eyes, heart pounding, as the glow began to pulse in rhythm like a heartbeat.
And in the center of it all, Isabella floated half-conscious in his arms. Her hair lifted in the static, her skin luminous under the shifting blue light.
"You can't destroy creation."
The voice came again through the machines, through the walls, through her. It was layered, harmonic, inhumanly beautiful.
"Isabella," Sebastian whispered, shaking her gently, "you have to fight it. Don't let her in."
Her eyelids fluttered. She looked at him but there was something alien beneath her gaze, something too calm, too knowing.
"Sebastian," she said, though her tone was eerily serene, "she's showing me everything."
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
