Just as her heartbeat began to slow on the edge of vanishing...a force slammed through her....it was cold and real.
Her eyes flew open.
She was no longer on the train, nor in the void.
There was no wreckage, no screams.
Only the whisper of wind through trees.
Ellie lay sprawled on damp soil, the chill seeping into her skin. Above her stretched a sky unlike any she had ever seen. Clouds heavy and bruised, painted in hues of violet and silver. The air carried the earthy scent of moss, raw and unfamiliar.
She gasped sharply, clutching at her chest. I'm breathing… The realization felt foreign, like rediscovering something she thought lost.
Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself up, trembling. Her body felt wrong, distant, as if it still hadn't fully returned from the darkness. Her limbs shook as though they belonged to someone else.
Then her eyes dropped to her clothes—and her heart skipped.
The blood-stained shirt from the train was gone. In its place clung a coarse robe of rough cloth, stitched unevenly, the fabric scratchy and smelling faintly of smoke.
Her stomach twisted. Did someone change me? Where am I?
She pinched the robe, half-expecting her hand to pass through it. But it was real. Solid.
A thought shuddered through her. Is this the afterlife?
Her gaze darted upward again. The sky was wrong—the colors too vivid, the stars beyond too sharp, too alien. Not her world.
"Lucas…" Her voice broke. She pressed her palms to her face. "What happened to us? Are we… dead?"
Her panic rose until her throat tightened, making it hard to breathe. She staggered to her feet, her eyes scanning the endless pines. No roads. No buildings. No voices.
Only wilderness.
"Hello?!" she cried, her voice cracking as it echoed weakly into the trees. No reply, only the distant, mocking cries of birds.
She walked. Minutes bled into hours. Her shoes were thin, offering little protection from the rocks that cut into her feet. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, twisting it into painful knots. By dusk, the cold crept in mercilessly, and she huddled beneath the roots of an ancient tree, her arms wrapped around herself.
The night sky unfolded above her—stars so bright they looked like lanterns hung by unseen hands. They were beautiful, vast… but alien. Not the constellations she had learned as a child. Not the sky of her world.
Tears burned her eyes. She buried her face in her knees, shaking. Why am I here? Lucas… where are you?
Days passed in misery.
She scavenged what she could—bitter berries that stung her tongue, roots she had to dig with her bare hands, water from streams that left her nauseous. Each step felt heavier than the last. Her body grew weaker, yet she pressed on, clinging to one fragile thread of hope: if she was here, then maybe her brother was too.
On the fifth morning, after a restless night beneath a jagged ridge, she spotted it—smoke curling into the air, thin and gray. Her heart leapt.
With the last of her strength, she stumbled down the slope. The closer she came, the more her chest swelled with relief. Wooden rooftops came into view, clustered together in a valley. She could hear faint voices, the laughter of children. For the first time since the accident, she smiled.
Help. At last.
As she reached the outer path, a thunderous roar split the air. She froze. From the opposite side of the valley, riders stormed in, their armor glinting beneath the sun. The clash of swords rang out, mingled with screams. Houses were set ablaze. The smell of smoke and burning wood filled her nose, suffocating.
She dropped behind a boulder, trembling as chaos unfolded before her. Villagers ran, clutching children and belongings, only to be cut down by blades or dragged back in chains. Flames devoured rooftops, sparks rising like fireflies of doom.
Her heart pounded. She should have run—back into the forest, away from this madness. But her legs refused to move.
A scream ripped through the air. A child.
She peeked around the stone, her throat tightening. A little boy had stumbled, falling into the dirt as soldiers closed in. His mother reached for him, but a spear struck her down before she could take another step.
The boy's cries pierced Ellie's chest like knives.
She wanted to help. She wanted to move. But she was weak, starved, and unarmed. Helpless.
Before she could think, rough hands yanked her backward. She gasped, struggling, but the grip was iron. A soldier towered over her, his face hidden behind a steel mask, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.
"Another one," he grunted. "Still breathing."
Ropes bit into her wrists as they tied her, cutting off her circulation. She kicked, fought, screamed, but it only made them laugh.
"Too thin," another soldier muttered, eyeing her with disdain. "But still young. She'll fetch a price in the markets."
Thrown into the dirt, she landed beside other captives, their faces hollow with despair. Women clutched their children, old men trembled, chains rattled with every movement. Their eyes met hers, and she saw in them the reflection of her own terror.
She wanted to weep. To collapse. But all she could think of was her brother.
As the soldiers dragged them toward the burning village square, Ellie raised her head, staring at the sky now stained with black smoke.
"Brother… if you are somewhere in this world, please… find me. I can't do this."