There was a white light—blinding, even through closed eyes. I couldn't breathe. That suffocating sack was still over my head, and the light behind it burned like fire.
Then, someone ripped it off.
I squinted, vision swimming in shapes and light. Blurred figures stood between me and the glare, but I couldn't make out faces or sound—until a bucket of cold water slammed into my skin.
I gasped for air, choking on the moment as everything began to snap into focus.
I gasped for air, choking on the cold, and as my senses returned, I found myself in a vast, empty hall lit by harsh, blinding lights. The room was bare, except for a massive gate fitted with complex mechanisms. Two tall guards stood beside it, armed and still.
They wore dark blue uniforms and carried heavy guns, their eyes hidden behind black sunglasses. Six more guards surrounded me in a wide circle. In the center stood two figures—one was Odon. The other was a woman in a deep purple, mermaid-tail gown. A matching hat shaded her face, a black net covering her eyes and right cheek. All I could make out was her broad nose and lips painted in blood-red lipstick.
"I thought you'd gone blind," Odon said, approaching her with a voice that tried to sound calm but dripped with arrogance, whether from his rough tone or the pride in his step.
He turned to me. "I still don't get what makes you special. They call you our end, but all I see is a girl on her knees." He began circling. "You can't even see straight." His laugh was sharp, cruel.
My fists clenched behind my back. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm just an ordinary girl," I said through gritted teeth.
"Even better," Odon muttered. He cracked his fingers. "Kill her, and toss her bones to the dogs. I hate resurrections." He turned to the guards, ready to give the order.
But the woman in the gown stepped forward and whispered something in his ear.
Odon paused. He raised two fingers, and the guards who had nearly reached me froze.
He smirked. "I think I know how to break a phoenix. Maybe drowning her in water will extinguish her fire."
He laughed again, darker this time.
Two guards moved in and grabbed me. A sharp sting struck the side of my neck. Within seconds, the room faded. Sight, sound, everything vanished.
"I'm scared, Dad!" I cried, my tiny voice muffled from inside the fridge. Cold smoke curled from my mouth into the dark.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. Dad's going to get you out. Just stay strong for a few minutes, okay? I promise it won't be long."
That was him. My father. And the little girl freezing in the dark, that was me.
It was a memory I couldn't fully recall, but the fear still clung to me. Immediate. Raw.
Suddenly, light pressed against my eyelids.
"Zinnia, look at me!" Don's voice cut through. "Hey! Zinnia!"
I forced my eyes open. His face filled my vision.
"You ready?" he grinned.
"Just a second." I blushed.
He kissed my forehead and walked away.
I turned to the mirror. A white gown flowed around me, my hair curled softly, a delicate headpiece. I wasn't surprised. Somehow, it felt familiar.
Then the door creaked open.
Two men stepped in. One was Dad. The other, unfamiliar—dark brown hair, beautiful face. Yet something about him felt painfully familiar.
He held my face in his hands, tears clinging to his lashes. "You look just like your mother," he whispered.
That's when I knew—he was Raymond. My biological father.
I broke. "I'm sorry!" I sobbed into his neck.
"What are you sorry for, my little girl?" he asked, wiping my tears.
Dad placed a hand on my shoulder. "This might be the start of a new life. You'll bend, break, shatter. But the hardest part is rebuilding. I believe in you."
Something cold touched my toes. I looked down—water creeping across the floor.
"Please take me with you!" I begged.
"It's not your time," Dad said. "Your friends need you."
Raymond smiled. "I'm proud of the woman you've become."
And then—I was sinking. Deeper, farther. All I could see was blue.
I choked. I couldn't breathe. My strength vanished.
Everything went dark.
—
I jolted awake, coughing violently, water gushing from my mouth. My limbs were numb. I was strapped to a board, wrists, and ankles bound.
Above, thick glass surrounded me. A tank. Water dripped from the corners.
Outside, a woman stood at the control panel. Her gown clung to her, long brown hair falling freely. She walked toward me—stunning and unfamiliar, yet unmistakably the enemy.
"Now I know what makes you special," she said mockingly.
"Piss off," I growled.
She smirked. "Don't recognize me? Just like your grandfather. Or was it great-great-grandfather?"
"You are that witch… You're lying. She's dead."
"Oh, I'm very much alive." She slammed her palm against the glass. "What if I told you I can't die? Even if I wanted to?"
"And I'm supposed to care?" I snapped.
She leaned in voice almost tender. "You should've seen his eyes when I squeezed the life out of your poor Raymond."
My blood boiled.
"Put me down, you coward! I'll kill you with my bare hands!"
"You won't. Because you can't." Her smile widened. "Ever hear about the girl with two swords, shaking so bad she nearly wet herself?"
Her laugh tore through me. But worse than rage—was shame.
A loud click echoed. The board tilted back.
Water rushed in. Fast. Within moments, I was submerged. I held my breath… and then, I couldn't anymore.
Darkness took over.
—
I woke again. Dorm room window. Light burning through.
"What am I doing here?" My brain reeled, but all I wanted was to hide under the blanket.
"Come on!" Cris's voice rang out. "It's been 48 hours. You've got to get up."
"Okay, okay." I peeled the blanket off, blinking into the light.
"I missed you!" She hugged me tightly.
"How did I get back?" I stared.
"You were in a glass tank. Don, Shawn, and I pulled you out," she said proudly.
"Just like that?"
"If you want the full list of butts we kicked, I'll tell you—but someone's waiting for you." She grabbed my hand.
I tried to stand but stumbled. Cris steadied me and helped me to the door.
Outside, students were gathered with gifts, smiling brightly.
"You've been declared a hero," Cris whispered. "That sacrifice… they saw it."
I thanked them, stunned. And then I saw Don, stepping forward, eyes lit with joy.
He reached out. I took his hand.
"You go," Cris whispered. "I'll take care of them."
Don pulled me, and we ran to the rooftop, laughing. We stopped, breathless.
"That was fun," I giggled.
The view took my breath away—vines wrapped the fence, a valley full of flowers stretched into green hills beyond.
"Close your eyes," Don said.
I did. Then opened them.
Lights danced above his palm, shifting color—blue, yellow, green, red.
"They're beautiful. What are they?"
"When you were gone… I nearly broke. This helped me unlock my powers."
"I'm so happy for you," I said.
"I didn't realize how much you meant to me until I almost lost you."
"I'm here now, aren't I?" I placed my hand over his.
"Look at the sky," he smiled. "So blue… like your eyes."
"They say I have my mother's eyes," I whispered.
We watched the clouds in silence.
"Isn't it beautiful?" I turned to him—and froze.
"Don—your ear is bleeding!"
He didn't move.
"Don?" My voice cracked.
He turned, and I screamed. A sword pierced through his skull. Blood streamed from his eyes, his nose.
"Help me… find me," he said.
Then something slammed into me.
I was falling.
Rain lashed my skin. The rooftop disappeared. I dropped endlessly, screaming—
Until something grabbed my waist, a massive bird, claws locked tight, crushing.
I thrashed, struggling. It didn't let go.
Until it did.
I fell again—into water.
I kicked hard, swimming upward, desperate. But the surface never came.
My limbs grew heavy. My body gave out.
Everything faded.
—
They pulled me from the water again. Same tank. Same pain.
Every cough cut deeper. My throat burned. My stomach cramped.
"Will you stop already?" Through blurry vision, I saw Monroe roll her eyes.
"Some bitch just drowned me… you see?" I hissed.
She slammed her palm on the glass. "You're not as strong as you act. I just need to find what breaks you."
"Yeah? Good luck," I muttered.
Her nails dragged across the glass. My confidence cracked.
"Scratch that again," I warned, "and I'll chop your fingers off."
She didn't flinch.
Then, with a cruel smirk, she turned.
"Get her on board," she said. "I have a game to play."
Her laugh echoed like a threat.