She had been there… and then she wasn't.
Not gone, not entirely—but taken. And somehow, that felt worse. Like the soul had been pulled farther than death itself, beyond reach, beyond rescue.
Vivia lay sprawled against the smoldering earth, her body pinned by cords and scorched by the dying embers flickering around her. The heat still hissed in the air, curling smoke above the battlefield like ghosts dancing in retreat. The flames had faded, but the aftermath—the silence, the ache, the absence—was louder than anything that came before.
The one she believed in.
The one she hoped could bring her brother back.
Gone.
And all she could do now was think.
"So hopeless…" the words echoed inside her mind, heavy and bitter. She had no strength left—not to fight, not to move. She had failed to protect Cassian. Failed to stop Kaemor. Failed to even keep Chiaki standing.
It was all unraveling.
A quiet breath escaped her lips, trembling and faint. "I'm so sorry, Cassian… Chiaki…"
They were the only words she had left.
And yet—even as despair took hold—something stirred in the distance. Faint. Subtle. Almost too quiet to notice at first… but there it was: footsteps. Several. Slow, deliberate, crunching over burnt leaves and crumbling dirt, drawing closer to where she lay. She couldn't lift her head. Couldn't see who they were. Her body refused to respond. Her vision flickered—darkness swallowing the edges like ink spilling across a page.
"Who's there…" she whispered, barely conscious.
But no answer came. Only the sound of approaching steps—then nothing.
The world fell to black.
And silence followed.
The city of Lyvoria Crest had descended into chaos.
Panic flooded the streets like a wildfire—people shouting over one another, darting through alleyways and plazas, trying to make sense of the alarm that rippled through the stone-walled city. Soldiers scrambled to enforce order, but it was like trying to patch a dam with bare hands. Rumors twisted and grew like weeds, and not a single soul in the town knew the full truth.
They only knew the fear.
"She's gone? You mean she actually got out?!" one man cried, tugging his daughter closer.
"Who let her escape?! That facility was built for monsters!"
"I heard she killed three guards and disappeared into smoke—just like the last one…"
"No! That's not it—I heard one of the commanders let her go. They're hiding it from the empress!"
"The girl's cursed. I knew it the moment they brought her here. She's not just a runaway. She's something else."
"They said she's not even fully human anymore. Some kind of... Resonator experiment gone wrong."
In the thick of the fear-soaked chatter, guards raised their voices, trying to calm the waves of panic.
"Everyone—listen! There's no need for this madness!" one of the soldiers barked, sweat glistening beneath his helmet. "We're handling it. The girl may be loose, but she poses no threat to civilians!"
But the words fell flat.
"Like hell she doesn't!" an older woman snapped, her voice ragged. "Last time a test subject escaped, she leveled half the district! Children died! You think your armor's going to protect us from her?"
Another voice from the crowd:
"She's not human. She's a weapon. You're just waiting for her to snap."
"She should've never been brought here."
Meanwhile, hidden among the alleys, Morvain remained still.
He pressed his back against the damp stone of a shaded alleyway, breathing shallowly as the voices of soldiers echoed down the narrow passage. His eyes, tired and dim, watched as the commanders shouted orders, pushing troops into position like chess pieces. He didn't dare move.
The Empress's men were already out in full force, and he knew exactly what would happen if they realized he had ties to the girl. There'd be no trial. No chance to explain.
Just a grave.
So he stayed in the dark, his head low, watching the chaos spread like ink in water.
He'd seen it before. And he knew—this was only the beginning.
"What a damn mess… all over her," Morvain muttered, his voice flat, drained of emotion. His half-lidded, lifeless eyes remained fixed on the frenzy unraveling in the streets below. "And she's not even dangerous."
The fatigue in his face hadn't changed—like a man long resigned to the insanity of the world. His mouth barely moved as he spoke, more to the silence than to anyone else.
"All this chaos, all this fear... just because of a story the Empress sold them. That girl's got no connection to her—not even a thread."
He sighed, long and quiet. For once, he didn't even bother insulting himself. That, too, seemed like wasted energy.
"She's out there now. Free. Let her be." His fingers brushed the edge of the alley's stone wall. "But really—what's she gonna do? Rhaziel's still out there, and he's the one they should be worried about. He's the one who can actually end this madness. And her? She might just be the only one stubborn enough to try."
Morvain leaned his head back against the wall, gaze still distant, unfocused. "These people—screaming, panicking—they all know what she was meant for. A vessel. A breeding ground for a new generation of Resonators. That's all the Empress ever wanted from her. And now that she's off the leash... they're terrified she might start choosing for herself."
He chuckled dryly, with no trace of humor. "Honestly? I'm glad she's defying it. Refusing to let anyone decide her fate for her. That's more than I ever did."
He cast a subtle glance back toward the frantic voices of the crowd. Their panic was loud, but the hatred buried beneath it was louder. He heard their words—cold, cruel, stripped of all empathy. To them, she wasn't a person.
She was a threat. A thing. A mistake.
"A monster," he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening.
"I really hope you didn't get caught, girl…" His voice was barely a whisper, only for himself. "If you did... then letting you go might've meant nothing. Might've just bought you time before they dragged you right back."
But a faint trace of belief flickered in his tired expression.
"No. I know you. You're stronger than they think. Smarter, too. You'll find a way. You have to." He looked down at his hands, then to the ground. "Someone needs to make Rhaziel answer for what he's done… and I know you feel it, even if you don't understand all of it yet."
His eyes lifted again, scanning the city skyline cloaked in smoke and paranoia.
"There's hunters everywhere now… tracking you. Most don't even know why—they just follow the scent of a bounty, of power. And when they catch you, they'll take you straight to him."
He exhaled quietly, steady.
"So don't let them. Fight back. Give them hell. All of it."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Make it worth it."
But the nightmare didn't end.
Chiaki was still there—though barely. Her body hung limp over Kaemor's shoulder, unmoving, unconscious. She wasn't fighting anymore… just being carried. Closer and closer to Rhaziel's grasp with every step.
And Blythe—her own brother—watched from afar.
He had led Kaemor straight to her. And now, as flames still licked the edges of the broken forest, Blythe stood silent among the charred remains, shrouded in smoke and fading light.
He made no move to interfere. No step forward to stop what was unfolding.
He simply watched.
The forest around him was ruined—scorched and smoldering from Kaemor's poison and flame. Ash drifted in the air like snow. Still, Blythe's expression remained unreadable as his eyes followed the path Chiaki was being taken down.
"I guess… you're still not ready," he murmured under his breath, voice as hollow as the wind. "You came here at the worst possible time. Or maybe… maybe it was just one wrong decision after another that led you to this."
He looked down at the burnt earth, then back toward the distant silhouette of his sister, fading into the trees.
"Maybe there was nothing else you could've done but run… and even that wasn't far enough."
His gaze narrowed slightly, as if trying to see one last glimpse of her through the smoke.
"I still have hope you'll find a way. You always manage to pull through… somehow. But Chiaki—if Rhaziel gets a hold of you…"
He paused. His jaw clenched.
"He'll ruin everything you are. So whatever it takes… escape. Break free. Or call for help. Because once you're his…"
His voice trailed off into silence.
"…you won't be you anymore."
To be continued...