The pain had been building for days.
It lurked beneath my skin, pounding through my skull like fists on a locked door. Headaches had become routine, each one sharper than the last. But on the fourth night, it stopped pretending to be just a headache.
It became something else.
At first, I thought it was another wave of fever. I lay on my bunk, pressing my palms to my temples, trying to breathe through the ache. But the ache didn't stay in my head. It spread. Down my neck. Into my chest. Through my arms and legs.
Every nerve in my body lit up, burning.
I gasped, clutching my ribs as if something inside was trying to force its way out. My heart hammered so violently I thought it might split open.
"Ryan?" Alexei's whisper came from the bunk across from me, sharp with alarm.
I tried to answer. What came out was a strangled cry.
The sound made every boy in the room jolt upright. Heads turned. Faces pale. Mira, seated at the end of the row with her backpack against her knees, was already on her feet.
"Ryan?" she called, louder this time.
I shook my head, or thought I did. The movement barely registered. My body wasn't mine anymore. It was fire and weight and crushing pressure all at once, folding me in on myself.
And then I screamed.
The sound tore out of me raw, ripping through the barracks like broken glass.
Alexei stumbled from his bed, nearly tripping in his rush to reach me. Mira was close behind, but neither of them could touch me—because the moment Alexei's hand hovered near my shoulder, the heat rolling off my skin made him recoil with a cry.
"What's happening to him?" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear.
I couldn't hear them. Not really. Their words drowned under the roar of blood in my ears, the thunder of pain that consumed everything.
The coats came.
The door slammed open, boots hammering against the concrete. "Restrain him!" one barked, his polished rod snapping into place with a hiss of energy.
Two of them moved fast, cutting through the rows of cots toward me. I writhed, half-collapsed against the bunk frame, my body convulsing.
The first coat grabbed my arm.
And then he screamed.
It wasn't a human sound. It was animal, guttural, shredded with terror. His arm—where his hand had touched me—was dissolving. Skin bubbled, flesh liquefied, bone blackened and warped. In seconds, the entire limb sloughed away, splattering the floor in a grotesque puddle.
The man staggered back, howling, clutching at the stump as it dripped and smoked. The other children shrieked, scrambling away.
I barely saw any of it. My vision was a blur of white heat. My clothes clung to me, then crumbled, threads burning away like paper. The air stank of smoke and iron.
"Contain him!" another coat shouted. But none rushed forward. Not after what they'd seen.
Everything I touched melted.
The bunk frame beneath me sagged, metal hissing as it collapsed in molten chunks. The concrete floor blistered, caving inward where my feet pressed. The blanket in my hands shriveled into ash before it even fell away.
Alexei froze, eyes wide with horror, stumbling back until his shoulders hit the wall. His lips moved—my name, maybe—but no sound came.
Mira didn't move at all. She stood rooted, her backpack clutched tight, her face pale but steady. Her eyes flickered between me and the guards, calculating.
From the far side of the room, a laugh echoed.
Low. Delighted.
Doctor Veyren.
He leaned against the doorframe, pale eyes gleaming with fevered interest. His long coat brushed the floor as he folded his arms, watching me convulse.
"Yes," he murmured, though his voice carried over the chaos. "Yes, that's it. Show me."
His smile widened as I screamed again, the sound shattering the air. My body was fire and acid, burning from the inside out.
I staggered forward, unseeing, and the floor buckled beneath me. Concrete bubbled, blackened, then collapsed into a smoking pit with every step I took. Boys scrambled onto bunks, pressing themselves against the walls to escape. The coats shouted orders, but none dared touch me now.
The one who had lost his arm collapsed in a heap, his screams fading into wet sobs.
Veyren tilted his head, eyes alight, like a painter admiring the first strokes of his masterpiece.
"Marvelous," he breathed. "Utterly marvelous."
But I didn't hear him. I didn't hear anything.
All I knew was pain. Crushing, burning, endless pain.
It swallowed me whole. My skin peeled against my bones, my blood boiled, my lungs clawed for air that scalded as I drew it in. Every nerve screamed. Every cell was an inferno.
I staggered again, arms flailing. My hand brushed the wall and the stone hissed, sagging inwards like wax against a flame.
Mira's voice cut through the din.
"Ryan!"
Sharp, commanding. It pierced where nothing else had. For a fraction of a second, the fire flickered—and I almost remembered myself.
Almost.
Then another surge of agony tore through me, stronger than before. My knees buckled. I collapsed, the floor beneath me sagging and melting with a hiss.
The world narrowed to a point of searing light. My screams broke into ragged gasps. My vision whitened.
And then—
Darkness.
Just like that, the fire went out.
I crumpled, my body slack, the heat draining from my skin as if someone had flipped a switch.
The last thing I saw before the blackness swallowed me was Veyren's pale face leaning forward, his smile too sharp, too eager. His lips moved, but the words blurred together.
A thought—slippery, fleeting—flickered through my mind as I sank into unconsciousness:
He did this. He stopped it.
And then there was nothing.
---
When I woke, the world was quiet. Too quiet.
My body ached like it had been beaten with hammers, but the crushing, burning agony was gone.
I lay on my bunk, a thin blanket draped over me. My skin was clammy, my throat dry. My clothes—or what was left of them—were gone. Someone had thrown a rough shirt and trousers at the foot of the bed, stiff and smelling of bleach.
The barracks was hushed. Boys sat on bunks or crouched in corners, their eyes wide and haunted. Alexei was on his bed, staring at the floor, his face drained of color. Mira sat on hers, backpack still clutched, gaze fixed on me.
When our eyes met, she didn't look away.
"You melted him," Alexei whispered hoarsely. His voice cracked. "You touched him and he just… melted."
My stomach twisted. The memory was fogged, lost in the fire, but enough pieces remained. The screaming. The smell. The way the floor sagged beneath my steps.
"I didn't mean—" My voice broke. I swallowed. "I didn't mean to."
Mira said nothing. Her eyes didn't soften, didn't harden either. Just studied me, weighing.
From somewhere beyond the walls came the faint sound of a laugh.
Doctor Veyren.
I shivered.