The soldiers herded us off the academy grounds like we were cattle that learned how to scream.

  “Keep moving!” one of them shouted. “Stay behind the line!”

  The five of us stayed together because letting go felt like dying early.

  My fingers were numb. I could not tell if it was the cold or the shock. My mouth tasted like metal. Every time I blinked, I saw the Civic Hall again. The bite. The blood. The way someone’s face changed in a heartbeat.

  Lioran was right beside me, breathing too fast, eyes too wide. He kept turning his head, like he expected something to grab him from behind.

  Cirellan walked with her jaw locked tight. Nysera stayed close to her, one hand hovering near her shoulder, like she was ready to yank her back at any second.

  Lucien moved like his body was here but his mind was trying to climb out. He kept glancing up, like the sky might explain this.

  The street to Saint Aurex Grand Archive was packed with people running in the same direction. Soldiers formed a moving wall, pushing everyone forward.

  Zone 8 looked broken already.

  A tram sat stuck across the tracks, doors open, windows cracked. A vendor stall was flipped over, sweet bread scattered in the dirt, sticky and ruined. A man lay face down by a fountain, not moving. Nobody stopped to check.

  Sirens kept wailing. Not one siren. Many. From every direction.

  “Where are they taking us?” Lioran asked, voice shaking.

  “A refuge,” I said. I did not know if that word meant anything anymore.

  Lucien’s voice came out rough. “Saint Aurex.”

  “Why there?” Nysera asked.

  “Thick walls,” Lucien said, like he was answering a test question. Then he swallowed. “Limited entrances. Military can hold it.”

  Cirellan did not speak. Her eyes scanned the street, not for danger, but for faces.

  I did the same.

  Selene. Kael. Myron.

  Any sign of them.

  Nothing.

  We turned a corner and Saint Aurex rose in front of us.

  It was huge. The kind of building that makes you look small even when you are trying to act strong. Stone arches, tall stained glass windows, iron gates taller than a person. A wide courtyard in front, already filled with soldiers and panicked civilians.

  The main doors were open.

  Soldiers at the entrance shouted instructions.

  “Single line!”

  “Arms up!”

  “Show your wrists!”

  “Bites to the left, clean to the right!”

  That last part made my stomach twist.

  Bites to the left.

  Clean to the right.

  Like a simple sorting system could handle what was happening outside.

  We got shoved into a line.

  A soldier grabbed my wrist and turned it hard, checking my arm.

  “No bite,” he muttered.

  He looked at my face. “Any blood contact?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. I did not know how to answer. There was blood everywhere.

  He saw my hesitation and snapped, “Did it get in your mouth, eyes, open wounds?”

  “No,” I said quickly.

  He nodded and pushed me forward.

  Lioran got checked next. His hands were shaking so badly the soldier grabbed his forearm with both hands just to keep it still.

  “Kid,” the soldier said. “Breathe.”

  Lioran’s voice came out thin. “I am breathing.”

  “Try harder.”

  Cirellan and Nysera were checked together. Nysera had blood splatter on her sleeve.

  The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “Is that yours?”

  Nysera’s jaw tightened. “No.”

  “Any bite?”

  “No.”

  He stared at her like he wanted to argue, then he just pointed. “Wipe it. Now. Then move.”

  Lucien stepped forward.

  The soldier recognized him. I could see it in the way his eyes flicked.

  “Valcrest,” the soldier said.

  Lucien’s face was pale. “Yes.”

  The soldier checked him quickly, almost respectfully. “No bite.”

  Lucien did not thank him. He just walked.

  We crossed into the compound.

  Inside, the air changed.

  It was colder. It smelled like stone and old paper and disinfectant. The main hall was enormous, like a church nave, but now it had rows of blankets on the floor, makeshift medical stations, soldiers posted by every major doorway.

  Lights ran along the walls, powered by a backup system. They were not bright. More like a steady glow meant to keep people from losing their minds.

  The sound inside was worse than outside in a different way.

  Outside was screaming and sirens.

  Inside was crying.

  Low sobs. Whispers. People calling names over and over until their voices went hoarse.

  A teacher from our academy stood near a pillar, clutching a student like the student was the only reason he was still standing.

  “Are we safe?” the student kept asking.

  The teacher kept repeating, “Yes. Yes. Yes,” like saying it enough times would make it true.

  I froze for half a second, looking at the crowd.

  So many faces.

  Some familiar.

  Some not.

  “Selene,” I called out.

  My voice sounded wrong in this huge space. Too small. Too weak.

  I tried again, louder.

  “Selene Mirevale!”

  No answer.

  I stepped forward, scanning rows of people.

  Lioran grabbed my sleeve. “Rafa, slow down.”

  “I need to find them.”

  “I know,” he said, voice cracking. “I know.”

  Cirellan was doing the same thing, eyes cutting across faces fast, like she was searching a list.

  “Ardent,” she called. It came out sharp. “Solmere!”

  Nysera leaned in. “Cire, check the registration table. They might’ve been logged.”

  Lucien was already walking, pushing past people with controlled urgency.

  “My parents,” he muttered. “They were on the northern road. They should be here.”

  He looked over his shoulder at us, like he forgot we existed for a second. “If you see them, tell me.”

  Then he disappeared into the crowd.

  The five of us did not stay five for long.

  Not because we wanted to separate, but because the room swallowed us.

  I moved toward a table where soldiers were taking names.

  A medic yelled nearby, “We need clean cloth! Now!”

  I pushed through two rows of seated civilians.

  “Excuse me,” I said, “sorry,” over and over, until the words felt meaningless.

  At the registration table, a soldier with tired eyes was writing fast.

  I leaned in. “My stepmother, Selene Mirevale. Two stepbrothers, Kael and Myron. They live in Zone 8, near the eastern tram line.”

  He did not look up. “Not here.”

  “How do you know?”

  He finally glanced at me, annoyed. “Kid, if they were processed, they would be on the sheet.”

  He tapped the paper. “Mirevale not listed.”

  My throat tightened. “Maybe they came in a different entrance.”

  He shook his head. “Only one entrance open. One.”

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to say he was wrong. That there had to be another way.

  But the sound of a child crying behind me cut through my head.

  I stepped back, feeling my chest burn.

  I turned and saw Professor Morwyn Faelis near the far side, speaking to a soldier. Her robe was dusty. There was a smear of blood on the lower hem.

  She looked like she had aged ten years in a few hours.

  I started toward her.

  But then someone grabbed my arm.

  Lioran.

  His face was flushed and wet. I realized he had been crying.

  “I checked the whole left side,” he said fast. “I did not see your family. I did not see mine either.”

  His voice dropped on the last words like he hated saying them.

  I swallowed hard. “Maybe they are still outside.”

  He shook his head like he could not accept that. “Maybe they are in another refuge.”

  “Maybe,” I said, even though the word felt like a lie.

  Cirellan and Nysera appeared from the crowd, moving fast.

  Cirellan’s eyes were red around the edges. She looked furious at the air itself.

  “Not here,” she said. Her voice was flat. “They are not here.”

  Nysera held her elbow, not quite gripping, but not letting go either. “We checked three lists.”

  Cirellan looked at me, and for the first time she looked like a normal person and not a perfect brain in a calm body.

  “My brothers,” she said, and her voice cracked on the word. She swallowed it down hard. “They disappeared at the corridor.”

  Lioran’s shoulders rose and fell fast. “Maybe they got out first.”

  Cirellan shook her head. “They would not leave me.”

  Nysera’s jaw tightened. “They might not have had a choice.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Cirellan’s eyes flicked away, like hearing that hurt too much.

  We stood in a loose circle near a pillar, the four of us. Lucien was still gone.

  The building hummed with fear.

  I tried to speak. My mouth opened, but nothing came out that felt right.

  I wanted to say, It will be okay.

  But the words felt stupid.

  A scream rose from the far side of the hall.

  Not the outside kind.

  Inside.

  A sharp, sudden scream that made every head turn.

  A soldier shouted, “Clear the aisle!”

  People scrambled back as a stretcher rolled through. A man lay on it, restrained with straps. His face was gray. His eyes rolled back like he was trying to escape his own body.

  A medic yelled, “Bite on the forearm. Confirmed.”

  A woman ran after the stretcher. “That’s my husband! That’s my husband!”

  A soldier blocked her. “Ma’am, step back.”

  She shoved at his chest. “Let me see him!”

  The soldier didn’t shove her back. He held her firmly and said, “He needs isolation.”

  The stretcher moved toward a side wing, where heavy iron doors stood open, revealing a smaller room filled with medical lights and soldiers with masks.

  The restrained man started thrashing.

  His restraints strained.

  He let out a sound that wasn’t a scream. More like a growl forced through a broken throat.

  The woman sobbed. “Please. Please. Please.”

  The medic didn’t look at her. He just said, “If he turns, we will end it fast.”

  End it.

  The woman made a choking sound and collapsed to her knees.

  Cirellan stared at the doors like she was trying not to blink.

  Lioran whispered, “How do they say it like that?”

  Nysera’s voice was low. “Because if they don’t, they break.”

  I felt my fingers clench. My nails dug into my palm.

  I wanted to run back outside.

  Not because it was safer.

  Because it felt wrong to be inside while my family was out there.

  Lucien returned then, pushing through the crowd.

  His face was different now.

  Not polished.

  His hair was slightly messy. His coat had dust on the sleeves. He looked like he had been shoved and didn’t bother fixing himself.

  “They are not here,” he said.

  No greeting. No pride. Just that.

  “My mother and father. Not here.”

  He looked down at his hands like he didn’t recognize them. “The northern road is blocked. Military said transport is down across zones. They said…” He swallowed. “They said it’s happening everywhere.”

  Lioran’s voice came out small. “Everywhere?”

  Lucien nodded once.

  Nysera exhaled, harsh. “So this is the whole city.”

  Cirellan’s eyes flicked toward the ceiling lights. “Or more than the city.”

  Nysera shot her a look. “Do not.”

  Cirellan didn’t answer. She looked away.

  Lucien leaned his shoulder against the pillar like his legs didn’t want to hold him anymore.

  “I kept thinking,” he said quietly, “that if we got here, someone would explain it. Like there would be a reason.”

  Lioran let out a shaky laugh. “Bro, that is not how life works.”

  Lucien looked at him, and for once he didn’t look offended. He looked tired.

  “I know,” Lucien said. “I know now.”

  We stayed there, the five of us, like a little island in a sea of strangers.

  I hated it, but I also felt relief.

  Because if I lost them too, I wasn’t sure my mind would keep working.

  A soldier walked by, scanning the crowd.

  Behind him, another soldier carried a crate of bottled water and tossed them onto a table.

  “Water,” the soldier barked. “One per person. Do not hoard.”

  A man shouted, “My kid needs two!”

  The soldier snapped, “Then share.”

  It was not cruel. It was strict. The kind of strict that happens when panic is waiting right behind your teeth.

  Nysera walked to the water table and grabbed five bottles. She returned, handing them out like she had done this before.

  “Drink,” she said. “Even if you don’t feel thirsty.”

  Lioran took his bottle with shaking hands. “Thanks.”

  Nysera shrugged like it was nothing. But her eyes were bright with fear.

  I twisted my cap open and drank. The water tasted like plastic.

  My stomach turned anyway.

  I sat down against the pillar, sliding to the floor. The stone was cold through my uniform pants.

  Lioran sat beside me.

  Cirellan sat across, knees pulled up. Nysera stayed on her feet, pacing a little, like sitting would make her explode. Lucien sat down slower, like his body didn’t know how to be still.

  For a few seconds, nobody talked.

  In that silence, the building felt too big.

  Like it was swallowing us.

  Lioran finally whispered, “Rafa?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If your family…”

  He couldn’t finish.

  I stared at my hands. “Don’t say it.”

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  I wanted to yell. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to cry. I wanted to go numb.

  Instead I said, “It’s fine.”

  It wasn’t.

  Cirellan’s voice came out quiet. “I keep replaying it.”

  Nysera stopped pacing. “Replaying what?”

  “The corridor,” Cirellan said. “The crowd. I saw Ardent’s back. Then Solmere grabbed him. Then they were gone.”

  Lucien’s eyes flicked up. “Gone like separated, or…”

  Cirellan’s jaw clenched. “Gone.”

  Nysera sat down next to her finally, close enough their shoulders touched. “Hey,” she said softly. “You don’t know.”

  Cirellan’s eyes shone with tears she refused to let fall. “I do know. I do.”

  Nysera didn’t argue. She just stayed there.

  Lioran’s voice shook. “My mom always says, if something bad happens, find your people. I found you, Rafa.”

  He looked at me like he was apologizing for being alive.

  I swallowed. “Yeah.”

  Lucien stared at the crowd. “I had people. I had… a whole network.”

  Nysera glanced at him. “And now?”

  Lucien’s throat moved. “Now I have this.”

  He sounded like he hated it and needed it at the same time.

  I looked at him, and something in me softened, unwillingly. Because he didn’t look like my rival anymore. He looked like a kid pretending he wasn’t terrified.

  A loudspeaker crackled.

  Everyone flinched.

  A military voice echoed through the hall.

  “Attention. This is a secured refuge. Remain calm. Follow instructions. Any individual with a bite must report immediately. If you conceal symptoms, you will endanger everyone.”

  People murmured.

  The voice continued. “Perimeter teams are active. Extraction corridors are being prepared. Stay inside the compound.”

  Stay inside.

  Like the walls were enough.

  Another voice, lower, more direct, came from near the main doors. An officer was speaking to a group of soldiers. I couldn’t hear everything, but I caught words.

  “Pressure.”

  “Crowds outside.”

  “Hold the gate.”

  I barely cared.

  All I wanted was to see Selene’s face. Kael’s stupid grin. Myron’s calm eyes.

  I pictured Selene’s hands adjusting my collar. Her voice telling me not to rush my words.

  I wanted to run back and find her, even if it meant dying on the street.

  Nysera seemed to read my face.

  “Don’t,” she said quietly.

  I blinked. “What?”

  She nodded toward the doors, toward the chaos outside we could still hear like a distant storm. “That look. Don’t go out there.”

  “I won’t,” I lied.

  Nysera’s eyes narrowed. “You will if you think you’re the only one who has someone missing.”

  I felt heat rise in my throat. “It’s my family.”

  “And Cirellan’s brothers are her family,” Nysera shot back. “And Lioran’s mom. And Lucien’s parents. Do you think you are special right now?”

  I stared at her, shocked.

  Nysera exhaled. Her voice softened a little. “I’m not trying to be harsh. I’m trying to keep you breathing.”

  Lioran nodded quickly. “She’s right. You can’t go out.”

  Lucien’s voice was quiet. “If you leave, you don’t just risk you. You risk the rest of us.”

  That made my chest tighten.

  I hated that they were right.

  I hated that this was what life had become. Not scholarship points. Not debates. Not models. Just simple math.

  Stay alive.

  Stay together.

  The isolation wing doors opened across the hall.

  A medic stepped out, face pale behind his mask.

  A soldier followed, rifle ready.

  People leaned forward like they couldn’t help it.

  The woman who had chased the stretcher was still kneeling on the floor, shaking.

  A scream erupted from inside the wing.

  Then a crash.

  The iron doors rattled.

  The medic shouted, “Hold!”

  Another crash.

  The doors shook again.

  The woman sobbed, “No, no, no, no.”

  The doors burst open.

  The man from the stretcher came out.

  He moved like his body was stiff, like every joint hated him. But he moved anyway.

  His restraints hung broken from his wrists like torn rope.

  His face wasn’t human anymore. Not in the way it mattered.

  He lunged at the medic.

  The medic tried to back away.

  Too slow.

  The man grabbed his shoulder and bit into his neck.

  Blood sprayed across the medic’s mask.

  The medic’s scream cut off into a choking gurgle.

  The woman’s eyes went wide and she screamed her husband’s name.

  The soldier didn’t hesitate.

  He raised his rifle and fired into the man’s head.

  The shot echoed. Loud. Final.

  The man dropped.

  The medic dropped too, clutching his throat.

  His eyes were wide and scared like a child’s.

  Then his hands stopped moving.

  The woman made a sound that wasn’t words and crawled toward the body, reaching out.

  A soldier grabbed her waist and pulled her back.

  She fought like an animal.

  “Let me go!” she shrieked.

  The soldier’s voice was firm. “Ma’am, stop. Stop!”

  She slapped him. “That was my husband!”

  The soldier didn’t react. He looked like he wanted to, but he didn’t.

  He just held her as she collapsed, screaming into his armor.

  The hall was silent except for her.

  My stomach rolled.

  Lioran’s face went green. He covered his mouth.

  Cirellan stared at the blood on the stone like she couldn’t look away.

  Lucien whispered, “This is real.”

  Nysera’s voice was tight. “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t speak.

  I just sat there, feeling the cold stone through my clothes, feeling my heartbeat in my ears.

  This was not a movie. Not a story.

  This was bodies.

  This was people.

  This was a husband shot in the head in front of his wife.

  Some time passed.

  Minutes. Maybe an hour. Time felt like it broke too.

  Soldiers kept moving through the crowd, checking arms, enforcing order. Medics set up more supplies. Teachers tried to gather students into groups.

  Professor Faelis walked past us and paused.

  Her eyes landed on me.

  “Mirevale,” she said.

  My throat tightened. “Professor.”

  She looked at Lioran, Cirellan, Nysera, Lucien. “You’re together. Good.”

  Her voice softened slightly. “Anyone missing?”

  All of us spoke at once.

  “Family.”

  “Brothers.”

  “Parents.”

  Professor Faelis closed her eyes for a moment, like she was swallowing something painful.

  Then she opened them again and said, “Hold onto each other. Do not run alone.”

  Nysera’s voice came out sharp. “What is happening?”

  Professor Faelis looked like she wanted to give an answer.

  But she didn’t.

  She simply said, “The city is falling.”

  Then she walked away, moving toward another group of students.

  Lucien stared after her. “She knew something.”

  Cirellan’s voice was low. “Or she knows as much as we do.”

  Nysera shook her head. “Teachers always know more than they say.”

  I didn’t care right then.

  Knowledge didn’t bring my family back into the room.

  A soldier shouted near the main doors. “Hold the line!”

  We all turned.

  The iron gates at the outer courtyard were visible through a wide archway. Soldiers formed a tight line there. Behind the gates, you could see shapes moving.

  People outside.

  Some screaming.

  Some pounding.

  Some stumbling.

  The gate shook.

  Not from one person. From many.

  The officer at the gate barked orders.

  “Reinforce!”

  “Barricade the left hinge!”

  “Do not open!”

  The gate held.

  For now.

  The officer was competent. I could see it. The soldiers moved like a unit. They weren’t panicking, even though they looked scared. They were doing their jobs.

  That should have made me feel safe.

  But something else happened.

  A low sound.

  A deep crack.

  At first I thought it was another gunshot.

  But it wasn’t sharp. It was slow.

  Like stone complaining.

  People inside the hall paused, heads tilting like animals listening.

  Another crack.

  This time louder.

  Dust drifted from the high arches above us, glittering in the light.

  Nysera frowned. “What was that?”

  Lucien stood up. “Probably the barricades shifting.”

  Cirellan whispered, “Stone doesn’t crack like that unless…”

  She didn’t finish.

  Another crack.

  This one came from outside, from the courtyard.

  Then a scream.

  Not the screaming from the gates.

  A new scream. Close.

  The officer at the gate shouted, “Back! Back from the center!”

  Soldiers moved quickly, pulling civilians away from the courtyard archway.

  Then the ground gave a sound like a giant exhale.

  A section of the courtyard floor dropped.

  Not a little.

  It sank and cracked, then collapsed inward with a roar.

  Stone shattered.

  People fell.

  A wave of dust burst up through the archway into the hall, choking the air.

  I stood so fast my head spun.

  “What the hell?” Lioran choked.

  We ran toward the archway, not to be brave, but because our bodies moved before our brains could stop them.

  When we reached the opening, we saw it.

  A hole.

  A wide, jagged hole in the courtyard where stone used to be.

  The floor had collapsed into a dark cavity below.

  I saw civilians scrambling at the edge, screaming, trying to pull someone up.

  Soldiers shouted commands, forming a line to keep people from rushing forward.

  Then water surged up from the hole.

  Not clean water.

  Dirty, gray water that smelled like rot even from here.

  It sprayed across broken stone like a burst pipe.

  And with it came bodies.

  Not one.

  Many.

  They rolled and bumped against the edges of the hole, carried by the rush like debris.

  A man’s arm flopped over the rim, skin pale and bloated.

  A woman’s head bumped against stone, hair floating in the water like weeds.

  Someone screamed, “Oh my God!”

  The water kept pushing.

  More bodies surfaced, piling near the hole like the city was spitting them out.

  Some looked dead.

  Some looked… not.

  One body twitched.

  I froze.

  It wasn’t a normal twitch like nerves.

  It was a sudden jerk, like a switch flipped.

  The body’s head lifted slowly.

  Its eyes opened.

  Cloudy.

  Wrong.

  It dragged itself up with a strength that didn’t match its slow movement.

  A soldier yelled, “Contact! Contact!”

  A civilian near the edge screamed and stumbled back.

  Too late.

  The thing grabbed his ankle.

  The man fell hard, palms slapping the wet stone.

  He screamed.

  The thing leaned forward and bit into his calf.

  Not a clean bite.

  A tearing bite.

  The man’s scream climbed into a high, broken sound.

  Blood spilled into the dirty water, turning it darker.

  The soldier fired.

  A shot cracked.

  The thing’s head snapped back and it dropped.

  The man was still screaming.

  Then he stopped.

  Then his body jerked.

  Immediate.

  His head turned toward the nearest living person with that same empty hunger.

  Nysera grabbed Cirellan’s arm hard. “Back! Back!”

  Cirellan didn’t move at first. Her eyes were locked on the hole like she was watching the world’s foundation fall apart.

  Lioran clutched my sleeve. “Rafa!”

  Lucien grabbed my shoulder. “Move!”

  We backed up, stumbling away from the archway as more bodies spilled out.

  More of the wrong-eyed ones rose.

  Slow.

  Dragging themselves forward.

  Some were missing chunks of flesh, like they had been scraped along stone for a long time.

  They still moved.

  They climbed over each other, hands grabbing, jaws snapping, not fast, not smart, but unstoppable in their own horrible way.

  The courtyard turned into a trap.

  Soldiers fired in controlled bursts, aiming for heads. They were good. They didn’t waste bullets.

  But there were too many.

  And the water kept pushing.

  It was like the city’s veins had burst and spilled sickness into the heart of the refuge.

  People inside the hall started screaming again as the panic reached them.

  “Close the inner doors!” an officer shouted.

  Two heavy iron doors near the archway began to swing shut.

  Civilians tried to rush through before they closed.

  A soldier shoved them back. “No! Move away!”

  A woman screamed, “My son is out there!”

  A soldier yelled, “We can’t! We can’t!”

  The doors slammed shut with a booming clang.

  For a second, the sound stunned everyone into silence.

  Then the pounding started from the other side.

  Not from the main gates.

  From below. From inside the courtyard. From the broken place in the ground.

  The refuge wasn’t being invaded from the front like we expected.

  It was being torn open from under its feet.

  I backed up until my spine hit a pillar.

  My lungs burned.

  My hands were shaking so hard I could barely feel them.

  Lioran’s voice was high and panicked. “This place is not safe. This place is not safe!”

  Nysera’s face was pale, but her eyes were fierce. “Nothing is safe.”

  Cirellan finally spoke, voice thin. “The ground…”

  Lucien’s voice was flat. “Stone doesn’t matter if the foundation is rotten.”

  I wanted to shout at him for sounding calm, but he wasn’t calm. His hands were trembling too. His calm was breaking into pieces.

  Soldiers shouted orders deeper in the hall, redirecting people away from the courtyard wing.

  “Move to the archive aisles!”

  “Stay away from entrances!”

  “Keep low!”

  The crowd surged again, a wave of fear.

  People pushed.

  Someone fell.

  Another person screamed, “Don’t touch me!”

  The air filled with dust and the sharp smell of gunpowder.

  I looked at the faces around me, and I saw it.

  The moment people realized the refuge was not a refuge.

  The moment hope died.

  Lioran grabbed my arm with both hands, eyes locked on mine. “Rafa, please. Don’t let go.”

  “I won’t,” I said, and my voice finally broke on the word.

  Nysera’s hand tightened around Cirellan’s wrist.

  Lucien stepped closer, like he was choosing the group over the crowd.

  And I felt it, cold and heavy in my chest.

  We weren’t scholarship candidates.

  We weren’t rivals.

  We weren’t anything but five people trying to stay alive.

  Another crack echoed through the stone, deeper in the building.

  Not from the courtyard.

  From somewhere else.

  The structure was still shifting.

  Still breaking.

  Lioran whispered, barely audible, “Is the whole building going to collapse?”

  I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know.

  And because the answer didn’t matter if we couldn’t find our families first.

  Somewhere outside these walls, my stepmother could be screaming my name the way I was screaming hers in my head.

  Somewhere in this falling city, Kael could be trying to joke to keep fear away.

  Myron could be watching everything with those quiet eyes, already thinking about what to do next.

  And I was here.

  Inside a stone sanctuary that was cracking open like it was made of paper.

  The pounding on the courtyard doors grew louder.

  Then came a new sound.

  Not pounding.

  Scraping.

  Like nails on iron.

  Like hands dragging across metal.

  And behind it, the low, hungry noises that were starting to sound familiar.

  The hall lights flickered once.

  Just once.

  Enough to make the shadows jump.

  I held my breath without meaning to.

  When the lights steadied again, I realized something simple and terrifying.

  This was only the third chapter of my life turning into something else.

  And we still had no idea where my family was.

  Or how far the fall would go.