What Was Left Behind - Ninja X

Chapter 1 — Ashes of Home

The plaza lights dimmed, and the music died mid-note.

A holographic broadcast flared above the crowd, washing everything in cold blue light.

"Breaking news out of Upshawn—a massive explosion has caused a partial collapse of the Montana Industries tower downtown."

The words hit Ethan like glass in his lungs. Upshawn. Home. The laughter around him dissolved into silence. The air itself seemed to pause as he turned toward the screen. Drone footage flickered—smoke spiraling through the night, a skyscraper's upper floors bent inward like a crushed ribcage.

"Authorities are investigating the cause of the blast. Emergency crews are responding across multiple blocks. Witnesses claim they saw… multiple faces in the windows before the explosion."

Ethan blinked. Faces? The image glitched again—dark silhouettes moving behind shattered glass, twisting in impossible ways—and then static.

Kai leaned forward. "That's your city, right? Upshawn?"

Ethan's throat tightened. "Yeah. I've seen that building before. It's downtown. Montana Industries—one of those companies you pass and never think twice about."

Kenji frowned. "You know anyone there?"

Ethan hesitated. "No… but that's near where my family used to live."

He went quiet for a long breath. "I haven't talked to them since the fire."

The thought hit like a blade drawn slow. His stomach turned. He hadn't checked in since the fire. He stopped himself, but the memory flared—the house fire, the smoke, the night the comet tore the sky apart. His mother's voice over the phone, saying everything's fine when it wasn't. His sister's silhouette through the window, her small hand pressed against the glass as the flames rose.

Kai shifted uncomfortably. "You think they might've gone back?"

Ethan stared at the screen, heart hammering. "If they did… they're right in the middle of that mess."

The building on the broadcast buckled, sending another cloud of ash into the sky. Sirens echoed through the feed.

He stood suddenly, the chair scraping the stone.

"I have to go."

Kenji rose too. "Ethan, think. You don't know what's happening down there. If that tower's still unstable—"

"I don't care." His voice cracked but didn't waver. "If my mom and Lily are alive, they need me. If they're not…" He swallowed hard. "Then I need to see it for myself."

Kai caught his arm. "And do what? You can't fix a collapsing building."

"I can try," Ethan said. The darkness in his voice made both brothers hesitate.

They shared a look. Kenji finally exhaled. "You'll never make it through the passes alone."

Ethan's answer came quiet, certain. "Then don't let me go alone."

The hangar groaned under the storm. Metal rafters shuddered as wind forced its way through the seams. A single light buzzed overhead, flickering across the old aircraft at the center—half rebuilt, half forgotten.

Kai threw off a tarp, revealing the ship's patched-together hull. "She's ugly," he said, "but she flies."

Kenji inspected a panel, fingers brushing the scars in the metal. "Barely."

Ethan stepped forward, water dripping from his sleeves. "Will it get us there?"

"If the weather doesn't rip it apart first," Kenji said. "But yeah. It'll get us there."

Before boarding, Kai rummaged through a storage chest at the side of the hangar and tossed something across the room. "Here. You'll need this."

Ethan caught it—a folded set of armor and gear, clearly worn but well kept. The plates were muted silver with dark underlays, built for movement more than show.

He raised an eyebrow. "Training gear?"

"Old stuff," Kai said, smirking. "We didn't get a chance to help you make your own before Father sent us off on missions. This'll have to do."

Ethan ran a hand across the chest piece. The metal hummed faintly at his touch, resonating with the same energy that pulsed under his skin.

"It's perfect," he said quietly.

Kenji nodded once. "Keep the mask on. You'll need it when you land."

Ethan slipped the gear on piece by piece—the bracers, the chest plate, the fingerless gloves. It wasn't fancy, but it fit. It felt right.

Kai tilted his head, grinning. "Not bad. Looks like it remembers its purpose."

Ethan gave a faint smile. "Then so do I."

The engines coughed once, then roared awake—rattling the entire hangar.

Rain battered the roof in a steady rhythm.

Kai shouted over the noise, "If Father finds out we took his ship—"

Ethan cut him off. "Tell him the truth. Tell him I went home."

Kenji flipped the last switch, sealing the cockpit. "Brace yourselves."

The old ship lifted from the ground, dust spiraling beneath it. The hangar doors opened to the storm, and the craft shot into the night, swallowed by rain and thunder.

Lightning forked across the clouds, lighting their faces in quick flashes.

Kai gripped the controls, steadying the ship through the turbulence. "Still think this is a good idea?"

Ethan stared out the viewport, his reflection flickering with every burst of light. "No," he said. "But it's the only one I have."

Kenji monitored the readings beside him, calm and precise as always. "You'll have one chance to land near the city before the air patrols pick us up. After that—on foot."

Ethan nodded, his thoughts miles away. Every flash of lightning painted a memory—the fire, his mother's voice on the phone, Lily's small hand pressed to his chest as the house filled with smoke. He hadn't called. Hadn't checked. Not once since that night.

And now the city was burning again.

He whispered, "Hold on, Mom… please."

Kenji's voice was low. "When the clouds break, you'll see the skyline."

They broke through the storm ten minutes later.

Upshawn stretched beneath them—familiar yet foreign. Streets glowed with emergency lights. Smoke climbed from the broken tower, turning the city's heart into a pulse of flame and ash.

Ethan's hands tightened into fists. "Bring us lower."

Kai glanced at him. "You sure you're ready for this?"

Ethan's eyes reflected the fire below. "No one's ever ready for home."

The ship descended toward the chaos. Lightning split the clouds behind them, casting their shadows over the burning skyline.

And deep beneath the ruin of the Montana Industries building, something began to move.

Something alive. Something that whispered in more than one voice.

Chapter 2 — Voices in the Mirror

Cyrus Longwell woke on the floor, cheek pressed to wet tile. His house was silent — shattered glass, overturned chairs, the hum of electricity still trembling in the air like a held breath.

His vision pulsed — double, triple, fractured. Colors bled. Shapes shifted.

He pushed himself up, fingers trembling.

Then he heard it.

Whispering. Layered. Looping. Like a thousand versions of himself talking in overlapping echoes.

"You hear us now."

"No more silence."

"No more mockery."

"They laughed at you."

"They took what you built."

"They took your comet."

He stumbled toward the hallway mirror. His reflection did not move with him. It stared back — and smiled.

Faces rippled beneath his skin like trapped spirits pushing against a surface too thin to hold them. Eyes blinked in places eyes should not be. Mouths twitched along his jawline, whispering over each other in endless broken chorus.

Cyrus shook his head violently. "Stop. Stop talking. Stop—"

His voice cracked into three tones at once, a discordant chord that vibrated the air.

"You begged to be heard."

"Now you will speak in every voice."

"They tried to bury your brilliance."

"Montana stole it."

"Took your comet data."

"Claimed your resonance theory."

He clutched his skull. "I ended this research. Years ago. I—"

The faces laughed.

He didn't.

His reflection leaned forward, lips curling into a disturbingly wide smile.

"No, Cyrus. You were forced to end it."

"They stole everything."

"Now take it back."

A ding cut through the whispers — sharp, normal, wrong. The TV had turned itself on. A news anchor's voice filled the room:

"Breaking update — Montana Industries announces breakthrough in cosmic frequency research, believed to be linked to last week comet phenomenon…"

Cyrus froze. On the screen, a Montana executive stood proudly beside glowing display screens full of charts and cosmic radiation patterns — his charts, his patterns. His life's work, renamed and repackaged.

"Breakthrough…" Cyrus whispered, voice trembling. "That's my work. That's my theory."

The whispers surged like a tide crashing into him.

"They took your brilliance."

"Your mind."

"Your purpose."

"They thought you wouldn't remember."

The faces beneath his skin twisted — anger, grief, humiliation, hunger. He exhaled shakily. Then he smiled. A new smile. Too many teeth.

"Purpose," he murmured. "I remember now."

He moved slowly, deliberately, like a man waking into a life that finally made sense. He reached for a hoodie — black, plain, loose enough to shadow the shifting faces beneath his skin. He pulled it over his head. His reflection continued to grin even as the hood fell, like the mirror refused to obey the laws of reality anymore. A final whisper cut through all the others — clearer, colder, like the core of whatever lived inside him now:

"Go reclaim your legacy."

Cyrus straightened. The voices quieted to an eerie harmony—like patience sharpening its blade. He opened the door. Outside, the comet's afterglow still stained the sky.

Cyrus stepped into the night, hoodie drawn low, the world unaware that purpose had just become a weapon. He didn't close the door. He didn't need to. He wasn't coming back the same way. And as he walked, the whisper inside him grew hungry:

"Montana Industries will kneel to the man they tried to erase."

"Tonight, they remember your name."

He kept walking. Not Cyrus Longwell. He is living up to his name. Mr. Nosey.

Chapter 3 — The Empty Seats

The days after the comet, the halls of Upshawn High felt wrong. Not destroyed. Not chaotic. Just off.

Ashley Harper stood at her locker, staring at the reflection in the tiny metal mirror — eyes tired, hair hastily tied up, the usual spark dimmed beneath sleeplessness. Around her, students whispered in half-laughter, half-nervousness. The school was pretending everything was normal.

But three names hung in her head like unanswered calls. Ethan. Jayden. Mr. Longwell. Ethan's seat in first period had been empty since Monday.Jayden's too.

And Mr. Longwell's classroom had been dark for two straight days, the door sealed with yellow caution tape and a typed note from administration: "Teacher on leave. Substitute pending."

Ashley stared at it longer than she meant to. Leave? For all three of them? At the same time? She tried asking questions — first the principal, then other teachers — but no one seemed to know anything. Or maybe they were told not to. Every answer was too quick, too polished.

"Family emergency."

"Health issue."

"Nothing to worry about."

But Ashley did worry. By the end of the third day, she couldn't sit still anymore.

Ethan's neighborhood was quiet when she arrived. The afternoon sun was already sinking, throwing long shadows over the cracked sidewalk. She rang the bell twice. No answer. She knocked harder. Still nothing.

She stepped back, staring at the house. The front yard looked the same — except for the scorch marks along the walkway. The edges of the lawn were blackened, the air faintly metallic.

Something had burned here. Recently. Her stomach twisted. She tried the doorknob. Locked.

"Ethan?" she called. "It's Ashley!"

Silence.

She stood there for a while, listening — half-hoping for a creak, a window, anything. But the only sound was wind brushing through the trees. Finally, she turned and walked away, her chest tight.

The Walkers lived a few streets down. Their house was smaller, always full of noise and warmth — or it used to be. When she knocked this time, someone actually answered.

Jayden's mom opened the door, eyes red, face pale. The living room behind her looked untouched — no lights on, no sound from the TV.

"Ashley?" she asked softly. "You're one of Jayden's friends, right?"

Ashley nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am. I— I was just wondering if he was okay. He hasn't been at school."

Jayden's mom hesitated before answering.

Her voice broke on the first word. "We… we haven't seen him since Sunday night."

Ashley blinked. "What do you mean, haven't seen him?"

"He said he wasn't feeling well," Mrs. Walker continued. "Went upstairs to rest. When I checked on him in the morning, he was gone. No note, no message. His phone's dead. Police think he just needed space, but…" Her hand trembled slightly against the doorframe. "He's never just left before."

Ashley's mind spun. "Have you— have you checked with Ethan? Maybe they—"

Mrs. Walker shook her head. "We called. No one answered. We even drove by his house. It looked… burned."

Ashley's heart dropped.

She forced a shaky smile, trying to sound stronger than she felt. "I'm sure they're okay. Maybe… maybe they're together."

Mrs. Walker gave a weak nod, eyes glistening. "I hope so, dear. I really do."

Ashley left, but her hands were trembling.

The streets of Upshawn felt different now. Too quiet. Like the whole city was waiting for something it didn't want to admit was coming.

Every few blocks, she saw flashes of the comet's news replaying on TVs through store windows — glowing headlines about radiation surges, government investigations, something about Montana Industries. None of it made sense.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, whispering to herself.

"Ethan, where are you?"

She didn't notice the dark van parked a few houses down.

Didn't see the faint figure standing in the window of the old science building as she walked past, watching.

All she knew was that something was happening in Upshawn — and somehow, the people she cared about most were at the center of it.

The city felt restless that night.

Not loud — just tense, like it was holding its breath.

Ashley Harper didn't plan to go downtown. She'd only wanted to clear her head, to stop thinking about Ethan's empty seat in class and Jayden's sudden disappearance. But her bus route detoured past the skyline, and something about the glow from the Montana Industries tower — the one that stretched over Upshawn like a monument — drew her in.

It was brighter tonight. Almost humming.

The comet hadn't passed yet, but the air already carried that same strange static that made the ends of her hair rise.

She crossed the street, hands deep in her jacket pockets, when she saw him.

A man in a black hoodie.

Tall. Slow. His shadow stretching long across the sidewalk.

He stopped at the intersection, just beneath the glowing Montana Industries sign.

Ashley didn't notice at first — not until a car turned, its headlights washing over his face for half a second.

Her breath caught.

Under the hood, his skin rippled like water. His cheekbones shifted as if there were faces pressing outward from underneath — mouths whispering, eyes blinking and sinking back into the flesh.

She stumbled back into the alley's mouth, heart thudding.

"Mr. Longwell…?" she whispered before she could stop herself.

He didn't turn. He just tilted his head slightly — not toward her, but as if he'd heard something else. Then he started walking toward the Montana Industries tower.

Ashley's mind screamed run, but her feet moved the other way — after him.

Chapter 4- What is MIne

The building loomed ahead, glass walls reflecting the pulsing comet light. The front doors were unlocked. She slipped in behind him before they sealed again. The lobby was vast, sterile — marble floor, silver counters, a chandelier that glowed like frozen lightning.

The receptionist looked up with a tired smile. "Sir, we're closed for—"

She didn't finish.

The man in the hoodie raised one hand — calm, casual — and brought it down on the front desk. The marble split. A clean crack down the middle. The receptionist stumbled back, gasping as the surface fell apart in slabs.

"Mr. Longwell!" Ashley whispered sharply, her voice barely audible over the hum that filled the room.

He didn't look at her. He just stood there, hand still pressed to the ruined desk, breathing slow and steady.

Security flooded in seconds later — four guards, all shouting commands.

"Hands up!"

"Sir, step away from the desk!"

He turned. Slowly. The hood slipped just enough for the light to hit his face. The guards froze. Multiple eyes blinked from his cheeks. His mouth smiled in three different places before reforming into one.

One of the guards screamed.

Cyrus moved.

It wasn't fighting — not really. It was effortless disassembly. Every movement was too fast, too precise. A flick of his wrist sent one guard flying into the glass wall. A twist of his palm sent another's baton melting into slag.

The entire lobby filled with sound — alarms, shattering glass, distant shouting. Ashley pressed herself behind a pillar, trembling, but she couldn't leave. Something about the way he moved — angry but mournful — made her stay.

When the last guard fell unconscious, Cyrus turned toward the elevator. He stepped over the broken marble and hit the button. The doors opened immediately. Ashley slipped in after him just before they closed, crouching low behind the corner.The floor numbers ticked upward: 8… 14… 20… 27… 33.

The elevator opened to a dark hallway. Old lab equipment lined the walls, glass rooms filled with untouched machinery and half-scrubbed whiteboards. Cyrus stepped out, slow, deliberate. The faint light from the comet shone through the windows, washing the corridor in pale silver. He reached a door at the far end — ASTRONOMICAL RESEARCH DIVISION.His division.

The plaque still bore his name beneath a strip of tape: C. LONGWELL — Lead Researcher. He ripped the tape off with a trembling hand. Ashley watched from around the corner, heart hammering. Cyrus walked into the lab. The walls were covered with data screens — readings from the comet, glowing energy graphs, and a large projection of a celestial body surrounded by rotating frequency rings.He stared at it. Then the voices started again.

"They stole it."

"Harvested your discovery."

"Took your resonance theory… and built an empire."

He clutched his head, shaking violently. "You used my work," he growled. "You turned it into this… this machine!"

He slammed his fist into a console. The glass cracked instantly, sparks bursting outward.

"They mined the comet's energy."

"They made weapons from your equations."

"They made gods from thieves."

Ashley crouched lower, terrified but unable to look away. Cyrus straightened slowly, breathing hard. His reflection stared back from a cracked monitor — a dozen faces, all whispering the same thing in perfect, chilling unison:

"Take back what they stole."

He raised his hand again. Energy pulsed from his palm — visible, tangible — and the monitors around him shattered in unison, raining glass and sparks. The hum of the building deepened, vibrating through the floor.

Ashley covered her mouth to stop from crying out. Down the hall, red warning lights began to flash. Then the power grid screamed. Cyrus turned toward the elevator, his many voices overlapping in distorted harmony.

"Let them hear the voice they silenced."

He walked out slowly, the light following him like an obedient ghost. Ashley stayed frozen in the corner, shaking, as the alarms roared louder. She didn't know what was about to happen — only that it started here, with him, with whatever he had become.

And when she finally ran for the stairs, the last thing she saw before the lights blew out was Cyrus Longwell's reflection in the glass — all his faces smiling at once.

Perfect — this is the moment where Ashley's story truly ignites.

We'll make this chapter intense, emotional, and cinematic — a full transformation sequence born out of terror, adrenaline, and instinct. It should feel like the entire world is crumbling literally and metaphorically around her.

Here's the complete, expanded version of the next chapter:

Chapter 5 — Falling Sky

The alarms were deafening. Red light stuttered across the corridors, painting every surface in panic. Somewhere deep in the building, metal screamed as support beams tore against their anchors. Ashley ran.

Her footsteps echoed through the empty hall as sirens blared overhead. Every direction looked the same — sterile walls, shattered glass, glowing sparks bursting from broken panels. She glanced back once. He was there. Cyrus Longwell. Or what was left of him.

The man she used to call Mr. Nosey was gone. What followed her now barely looked human — a tall, trembling figure with a dozen faint faces rippling across his skin, each whispering and laughing in overlapping tones. His eyes glowed pale silver.

"Ashley," one of the voices cooed from his cheek. "You shouldn't be here."

Her breath hitched. "Mr. Longwell?"

"Not anymore."

The sound of his voice wasn't coming from his mouth anymore — it came from everywhere. From the walls. From the air. Ashley turned the corner, nearly tripping over debris. The building shook again. She reached a stairwell and sprinted down, gripping the rail to keep from falling. Behind her, footsteps dragged slowly but deliberately — the sound of something that didn't need to hurry because it knew she couldn't escape.

"Please," she whispered, half to herself. "Please, wake up, wake up…"

She hit the next floor down — the Research Archive. Broken glass littered the floor. Alarms flashed, and ceiling panels dropped one by one like falling cards.

When she looked up, he was already at the top of the stairs.

Cyrus's many faces whispered in unison:

"They took everything from me. My work… my purpose. But they left me this."

He raised a hand. The air around it warped — a gravitational pulse that tore chunks of the stairwell free and flung them aside. Ashley ducked behind a desk as debris slammed into the wall. She felt the shockwave vibrate through her chest.

"Stop!" she shouted. "You'll bring the whole place down!"

"Good."

The word came from every mouth at once. Ashley scrambled backward as his shadow stretched across the floor toward her. Every instinct screamed run, but her legs felt like anchors. He stepped closer. The building groaned.

"They silenced me," one voice hissed.

"They took what was mine," said another.

"They'll hear me now," said them all.

He reached for her — a hand of skin and shadow, dozens of fingers flickering in and out of place. Ashley grabbed a loose metal rod from the floor, swinging on instinct. It struck his arm with a metallic crack — and shattered like glass. Cyrus barely flinched.

"You can't hurt an echo."

He lifted her off the ground without touching her — some unseen force pinning her against the wall. The oxygen left her lungs.

"I— I don't know what you're talking about!" she gasped.

"You will," the voices whispered. "You'll understand what it's like to be forgotten."

The building rumbled again — deeper this time. The lights flickered, then blew out entirely. A low groan spread through the structure as the ceiling split open. Sparks fell like fireflies. A metal beam tore loose and crashed down behind Cyrus. He turned his head — a dozen faces shifting at once — and in that instant, the telekinetic hold on Ashley broke. She dropped hard to the ground, gasping for breath. She didn't hesitate. She ran.

Down the corridor, past broken lab doors, through clouds of smoke and sparks. The air was hot, thick with static.The ground shuddered under her feet. Something exploded on the floor above — glass rained down like hail. Cyrus's voices echoed all around.

"You can't run from memory."

"You'll carry it too."

"You'll carry me."

She burst through a pair of half-broken doors into the lobby. The front of the building was collapsing — the once-grand chandelier hung by a single sparking cable, swinging wildly. She sprinted for the exit. The doors were half-caved, bent inward. She tried pushing — they didn't move. She hit them again. Nothing. Behind her, footsteps. That distorted voice.

"You were a good student, Ashley. Always listening. Always watching. You'll remember me."

He appeared in the broken reflection of the glass wall — a patchwork of faces and eyes staring from beneath the hood. The chandelier cable snapped. Time slowed. Ashley turned just as it fell. A blinding crash of light, sound, and glass engulfed the room. The explosion of debris threw her backward into a collapsing wall. She covered her head as the world folded in on itself. Then—silence.

For a moment, she thought she'd died. But the silence wasn't empty. It hummed. A pulse radiated from her chest — faint, blue, and growing stronger. Her eyes fluttered open. Her veins glowed faintly under her skin, spreading up her arms like threads of light.

The rubble above her trembled… and lifted. Ashley stared as chunks of concrete hovered inches above her, weightless. She pushed her hand upward without thinking — the rubble shot across the lobby and slammed into a far wall, clearing her path.

She gasped, trembling. "What… what did I just—"

Before she could finish, the ground split again. The building groaned one last time — then collapsed inward.

Ashley ran, light glowing from her hands, the air bending around her movements. Every motion felt faster, sharper — guided by instinct. She leapt through the shattered front doors just as the Montana tower imploded behind her. A roar of flame and debris tore through the street, flinging her into the air.

She hit the ground hard, rolling until everything stopped moving. The night was red. The sky screamed. Ashley pushed herself up, hair matted with dust, hands still glowing faintly blue. The Montana building was gone — a crater of smoke and fire in its place.

Then, through the smoke, came the shimmer — a faint blue pulse bleeding through her skin. Her hands glowed faintly, flickering like static. The rubble above her… began to rise.

Ashley gasped. "What the—"

The concrete slabs lifted into the air, weightless. She pushed her hands outward, and the debris shot across the hall, clearing her path. Her heart pounded. "I— I did that?"

Another pulse of light rolled off her. The fire bent away, the air trembling with her breath.

For a heartbeat, she stood surrounded by light and ash — glowing veins marking her skin, eyes reflecting a blue flame that wasn't from the wreckage.

Then she heard it.

"Beautiful…"

The voice came from behind her.

Ashley turned.

Through the collapsing smoke, Mr. Longwell stepped out — untouched by the destruction, faces shifting across his own. His grin stretched too wide, eyes reflecting the flames.

"You heard it too, didn't you?" he said, voices overlapping in harmony. "The comet's song… it woke you, like it woke me."

She stumbled back. "Stay away from me."

He tilted his head, smiling like a dozen mouths sharing one thought.

"Don't be afraid, Ashley. The voices just want to teach you…"

She turned to run—He was already in front of her. His hand shot forward, gripping her by the throat. The touch burned and froze at once. She gasped, her glow flickering as her feet lifted off the ground.Her fingers clawed at his arm, the world dimming around her.

"They took everything from me," his voices hissed. "But I can take something back."

The building moaned one last time, cracks spiderwebbing through the walls. Fire wrapped around them like a living thing.

Ashley's vision blurred. Her hands sparked — blue and white light flaring one last time against the crushing darkness.

"Please…" she choked out, barely a whisper.

Cyrus leaned closer, his many faces all smiling at once.

"Now you'll understand."

Chapter 6 — The Fire Returns

The city was burning again. The old plane rattled as it cut through the smoke, the engines coughing with each gust of heat rising from the ground below. Through the cracked windshield, Ethan could see Upshawn — his home — reduced to orange and ash.

Whole blocks flickered like dying embers. The skyline was fractured, jagged against the firelight. Somewhere at the center, the remains of Montana Industries still smoldered, its once-massive tower now a spine of ruin jutting into the night.

Ethan gripped the window frame. "This can't be happening…"

Kai, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, frowned. "What is this place?"

Ethan didn't answer right away. His throat was dry. "Home," he finally said.

Kenji looked back at him from the cockpit's rear. "You said your mother and sister lived here, right?"

"Yeah," Ethan said quietly. "But I haven't… I haven't checked on them since the fire."

His words hung heavy between them — guilt wrapped in smoke.The twins shared a glance but didn't speak. The plane dipped lower, cutting through a veil of drifting embers.

Kai steadied the controls. "We're setting down just outside the city. It's too hot to risk a full landing."

Ethan nodded. "Good. We'll go on foot."

The wind hit them hard the second they stepped out. Heat rolled off the pavement. Ash drifted through the air like snow that had forgotten how to be soft. Ethan pulled his scarf over his face, scanning the burned-out street.

His home — his neighborhood — was unrecognizable. Houses blackened to skeletal frames. Cars melted into the asphalt. The smell of smoke and metal clung to everything.

They reached the end of the street where the Li family house once stood. The roof had caved in. The porch was gone. The only thing left standing was the charred mailbox. Ethan stood frozen, eyes wide, every breath short.

Kenji rested a hand on his shoulder. "Ethan—"

"They're not here," Ethan cut in. His voice was quiet, but steady. "They have to be with Hale. They have to be."

Kai frowned. "Captain Hale? Who's that?"

Ethan shook his head, already walking toward the main road. "Someone who saved them before. Long story."

The twins followed without another word. They moved through the city like ghosts — climbing over debris, stepping through smoke and sirens. Every street felt haunted by the lives that used to fill it. Ethan kept his eyes down, but his mind was racing. Mom. Lily. Please be okay. Why didn't I call sooner? Why did I wait?And what the hell happened here? Each thought hit like a heartbeat — faster, louder, sharper.

They reached what was left of downtown. The Montana Industries building stood in ruin — a giant hole torn through its center, its upper floors folded inward like a broken spine. The air shimmered with heat, smoke rising from cracks that glowed faint blue.

Kai whistled. "You sure this is where we're supposed to be?"

Ethan squinted. "This is where the explosion started. Something happened here."

Kenji scanned the area. "Then we move high."

The three of them leapt onto the rooftops — quiet, fluid, shadows against flame. From above, the devastation stretched endlessly — fire trucks overturned, helicopters circling like vultures, people running through smoke and confusion.

Ethan's mind raced as they jumped from one rooftop to the next. If this came from Montana… does that mean… it's connected to the comet? He pushed the thought down. No time for that now. They reached the final rooftop overlooking the crater where Montana Industries had stood. That's when they saw her.

Through the smoke and flame, a figure staggered out of the wreckage — a girl, covered in dust, glowing faintly blue beneath the ash.

Ethan's chest tightened. "Ashley…"

She was on her knees, coughing, trembling, her hands sparking with blue light and behind her — rising from the smoke — came him.Mr. Longwell, Mr. Nosey, or whatever he had become.

His hood was gone. His face shimmered with dozens of expressions, each whispering over the other in a chorus of madness.

"You can't run from memory," one of the voices hissed.

"You carry it," said another.

Ashley stumbled backward. "Stay away from me!"

Ethan clenched his fists. "We have to get down there."

Kai drew his blade. "Finally. I was getting bored."

They were about to jump when it happened. A blur. A streak of light faster than sound. Something tore through the air like a missile, slamming into Mr. Nosey's chest with a concussive BOOM. The force threw him through the wreckage and into the side of the crater wall. Ashley fell to the ground, gasping, the glowing light in her hands flickering. The smoke cleared just enough for them to see it — the figure standing over Mr. Nosey's body. Tall. Scaled. Wings half-unfurled, still smoldering at the edges. Eyes glowing gold like fire behind glass. Ethan's heart stopped. The dragon from the night of the fire. The monster that had burned his neighborhood down.

For a long, silent moment, no one moved. Even the fire seemed to hold its breath. Ethan stood frozen on the rooftop, staring down into the crater. Ashley lay barely conscious. Mr. Nosey's laughter echoed weakly through the debris and the creature stood there breathing smoke, eyes fixed on Ethan. The world around them cracked and hissed with heat.

Kai whispered, "What the hell is that thing?"

Ethan's voice came out low.

"…That's the monster that destroyed my neighborhood ."

The wind carried the sound of the flames as the three of them stood above the burning city, watching as the monster raised his head — and roared.

The shockwave tore through the streets and then everything went dark.