The words hung in the air, heavy with a certainty that defied the chaos outside. "We're going back to the shop."
Elara looked from Kai's determined face to the horrifying view from her window. "Back there? Kai, it's all the way across town. We just got here. The streets are..."
"I know," he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "But think about it. This place is a fishbowl. It's got flimsy doors and dozens of windows. The shop is different. It has a heavy oak door, barred windows in the back, and a steel roll-down gate in the front. It's a fortress compared to this. And," he added, tapping the hilt of his saber, "it's full of potential weapons."
He was right. Elara's fear was a cold knot in her stomach, but her logical, studious mind couldn't poke holes in his reasoning. She took a shaky breath and nodded, her terror giving way to a grim resolve. "Okay. What do we need to do?"
"Pack a bag," Kai instructed, his tone shifting into a commander's efficiency. "Just one. We need to travel light. Food that doesn't need cooking, bottled water, your first-aid kit. And a flashlight."
While Elara rushed to her small kitchen and bedroom, pulling a sturdy backpack from her closet, Kai went to the window. He peered down at the street he had just fought his way through. The bodies of the Scuttlers and the Broodguard had vanished, but the scorch marks and shattered concrete remained. For now, the street was quiet, but he knew it wouldn't last. The sounds of fighting from a few blocks over were getting louder.
"We can't use the front door," he called out. "We'll go back down the fire escape. It's our best shot."
Elara returned, the backpack slung over her shoulder. It was filled, but not bulging. She had been efficient. In her hands, she held two of her largest, sharpest kitchen knives. She held one out to him, hilt-first.
Kai shook his head. "I've got this," he said, indicating his saber. "You take them both. One for each hand if you have to."
She looked down at the gleaming blades, her expression a mixture of revulsion and determination. This was her new reality. The girl who used knives to meticulously chop vegetables for her stir-fry now had to view them as tools for survival. She slid one into the side pocket of the backpack, easily accessible, and kept a firm grip on the other. Her knuckles were white.
"Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm ready."
Kai looked at his sister. Gone was the panicked girl from the phone call. In her place was someone terrified but resolute, her eyes holding a flicker of the same fire that now burned in his own gut. He felt a surge of pride.
"There's something you need to know," he said, his voice low. "If we run into those things... you don't fight. You run. You get behind me. My only job is to protect you, understand? Your only job is to stay alive."
She didn't argue. She just nodded, her eyes trusting him completely.
"Good," he said. Together, they pushed the heavy bookcase away from the door, the sound of it scraping across the floor seeming deafeningly loud in the tense silence. Kai opened the door a crack and peered out into the flickering lights of the hallway. It was empty. The body of the Grave Imp was gone, leaving only the deep gouges in the wood of her door as a testament to its existence.
They crept out of the apartment, leaving the door ajar. The silence of the building was unnerving. They reached the stairwell and descended to the third floor, every creak of the steps making them flinch. Kai led the way, saber drawn, as they slipped through the hallway to the window he'd jimmied open.
He climbed out first, landing softly on the metal platform of the fire escape. He then turned and helped Elara through the narrow opening. The cold night air hit them, thick with the smell of smoke and something else, something metallic and alien.
For a moment, they just stood there, brother and sister, perched on a rusty fire escape overlooking a city that had become a hunting ground. The world they knew was gone.
"Stay right behind me," Kai whispered, not taking his eyes off the alley below. "And don't make a sound."
He took the first step down, the metal groaning in protest. Elara followed, her hand holding the kitchen knife so tightly it was a wonder the handle didn't crack. They were leaving their old lives behind, descending into the heart of the nightmare together.