Flames consumed everything.

  The crash site was an inferno, fire roaring high into the air as smoke curled and twisted like serpents, choking the night sky. Heat pressed against my skin, stifling, oppressive. I could hardly breathe. My lungs ached, and my eyes stung with ash.

  Above me, fragments of the plane still tumbled from the heavens, shards of twisted metal glowing like dying stars as they plummeted into the field. And through the chaos, one sound cut clearer than the crackle of flames or the groaning of collapsing wreckage—Rocke’s laughter.

  It was low, unhurried, mocking.

  I turned, blinking through the haze, and there he was: stepping through the fire as if it parted for him, his smile sharp and cruel. His shadow stretched impossibly long across the flames.

  “Hope you’re enjoying yourself!” he called. His wand lifted, his eyes glinting with wicked delight.

  A searing flash—lasers lanced toward me. I dove sideways, the ground erupting where I had been a heartbeat earlier. The blast struck me all the same, its shockwave slamming me off my feet. I hit a tree with a bone-jarring crack, the bark splitting behind me.

  The world reeled. I slid down the trunk, dazed. The tree groaned, then toppled, crashing in a cloud of dirt and sparks.

  I lay there, breath ragged, pain screaming through every nerve. My chest heaved, but my body refused to move. My arms trembled uselessly at my sides.

  “What was that?” Rocke shouted over the fire, his voice closer now, filled with a sick thrill. “You still want to keep going?!”

  His footsteps crunched closer. The flames bent with him, shadows licking outward as he loomed above me.

  Then his hand was on me. Iron fingers seized my neck, squeezing until white spots clouded my vision. My throat burned under his grip.

  “Listen here, Connor,” Rocke hissed. His voice was steady, controlled, far more terrifying than if he’d screamed. “I’ve been after the Armonk for years. Years. And I’m not about to let some CEO’s boy take it from me.” His smile widened. “So let these be the last words you ever hear.”

  He leaned closer. His breath was smoke and blood. He raised his other hand high, ready to bring it down with finality.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. This was it. This was the end.

  But the killing blow never landed.

  Instead—an eruption.

  A shockwave tore through the wreckage, blasting Rocke backward. A white-hot beam of light ignited the battlefield, brighter than fire, brighter than anything I had ever seen. The force lifted me from the ground and hurled me aside. I tumbled, dirt and ash filling my mouth, until I rolled to a stop.

  Through blurred eyes I saw it—the Armonk. The container that should have been sealed tight, impossible to breach, now hovered midair, glowing as if alive.

  Then a portal ripped itself open above us—an oval of swirling energy, its edges trembling like liquid silver. The Armonk shot upward, disappearing into the void. With a snap, the portal closed, leaving behind only fire, smoke, and Rocke’s roar of fury.

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  Darkness swallowed me before I could understand what I’d seen.

  When light returned, it was gentle.

  I blinked against it, disoriented. My body felt foreign, as if it didn’t quite belong to me. My limbs were heavy, my ribs aching.

  I wasn’t in the field anymore. I wasn’t near the wreckage.

  I was in my room at the YMPA.

  My bed, my walls. And yet… not the same. A tray of medical supplies sat neatly on the side table—bandages, disinfectant, empty vials. Tubes I hadn’t noticed until now left faint bruises on my arm.

  I had been hurt. Badly.

  I flexed my fingers, slow and uncertain, like relearning my body from scratch. My arms were weak, but they still moved. That was something.

  The door creaked open. My head jerked toward it.

  A figure stood in the doorway, haloed by the light from the hall. Brown hair. Soft smile. For a second, I didn’t recognize her. My heart stumbled in my chest.

  But then she stepped closer, and my confusion melted.

  September.

  She had changed her hair again—it always caught me off guard—but it was undeniably her. The same sharp eyes, the same calm presence that somehow steadied me in every storm.

  “Hey,” she said gently. “You okay?”

  I tried to answer but my throat caught. After a second I managed, “Well… I suppose.”

  She came inside, pulling up a stool beside my bed. With a blink she teleported, settling into place without even making it look like effort.

  “So, when did you wake up?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes searching.

  “Just a minute ago,” I said with a weak chuckle.

  Her smile faded. “Connor… you’ve been asleep for a week.”

  My eyes widened. “A week?”

  She nodded.

  The words sank like a stone. I had lost seven days, just like that. Seven days stolen from me. But then again, I thought grimly, hadn’t the YMPA already stolen the normal life I once had? I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Wow,” I said flatly.

  September leaned closer, her voice soft. “We got the Armonk. Thanks to you. Your distraction gave Nikki enough time to create a temporary clone. Mr. Drails absorbed it before Rocke could realize it wasn’t real.”

  Her words jolted me. “So what caused the light?”

  “I thought you did,” she said simply.

  “I thought you did,” I shot back. “Or Nikki. She didn’t throw some grenade? Or a flashbang?”

  September shook her head.

  Silence stretched. The weight of it pressed on me more than the fire had.

  “Then maybe…” I hesitated. “Maybe it was me. And I don’t even know how.”

  She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Fear can trigger strange things. Stress too. Maybe your body just… reacted.”

  Her eyes softened. “I don’t know how, but I’m glad you’re still here.”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to smile. “It’s good to still be breathing.” The attempt at humor sent a jolt of pain through my ribs, and I winced.

  “Sorry,” she said quickly.

  “For what?”

  She laughed faintly. “It’s something my family says. Whenever someone gets hurt, we say sorry. Even if it’s not our fault.”

  I let out a breath, oddly touched. “Thanks anyway.”

  She nodded. “Of course.” She paused, her gaze lowering. Then she looked back at me, her eyes bright again. “I really hope I get to go on more missions with you.”

  For some reason, that made me laugh. It hurt like hell, but I couldn’t stop, my ribs screaming as I doubled over in pained chuckles.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  I wiped a tear from my eye. “Just thinking about the first time we met. Your… impression of me.”

  She sighed, rolling her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “First impressions,” she muttered.

  The room fell into a comfortable quiet. Outside, birds sang faintly, a somewhat subtle reminder that the world still existed beyond fire and missions and impossible powers.

  “What do you think of me now?” I asked softly.

  September’s smile was small but certain. She leaned closer.

  “Don't worry about it,” she said.

  I swallowed.

  She stood, straightening. “Well, I’ll let you rest.”

  “Wait.” I caught her wrist, gently. “What about Nikki? Where is she?”

  “She went back to her family,” September said. She smiled faintly. “Why?”

  I hesitated. My gut twisted. Something felt unfinished. Wrong. “I just… thought she’d be here... it's fine."

  September chuckled, then she slipped free of my grasp and headed for the door.

  The room grew quiet again, filled only with my breathing and the distant call of birds. I let my eyes drift closed, exhaustion pulling me under once more.

  We had done it. We had stopped Rocke, kept him from the Armonk.

  But as sleep claimed me, one question echoed louder than the rest.

  After everything… could life ever be ordinary again?