I collect the traces left by strangers on the street, one by one.
One steps in sorrow.
Another in regret.
One has had their wings clipped on this pavement.
Another has had their heart ripped out on that corner.
I don't know how you do it.
Why do you hurt people?
I can't solve it.
I told you, you're too far away.
I can't hear your words, even if you're screaming right next to me.
*
I hovered before the metal door, my body a beacon of ethereal light pushing back the malignant void.
Pars had stopped behind me. I couldn't see him, but I could hear his breath—ragged, impatient—somewhere in the gloom. He was waiting.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my hand hovering over the cold handle. Then, sensing his growing agitation, I lowered myself to the floor. The light around me dimmed slightly as my feet touched the concrete. I pressed down on the latch.
The metal door groaned open, the sound echoing like a dying animal.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the absolute pitch black of the tunnel we had just traversed. I stepped in, allowing Pars to brush past me. He strode directly toward the figure tied to a wooden chair in the center of the room.
The darkness behind me felt heavy, a physical weight pressing against my spine. It wanted to follow us in. Shuddering, I slammed the heavy door shut, sealing the abyss out. I leaned against the damp, decaying wall, taking in the scene.
Cassian, Kit, and Leander were already there, looming over the prisoner like vultures. A burlap sack covered the man's head. Since Pars and I entered, they hadn't moved or spoken.
In the corner stood Madison.
Her right palm was open, facing outward. Beams of artificial light shot from her hand, sweeping across the room in nervous, jerky motions. Even with her light, shadows clung to the corners.
I had so many questions about this place. The darkness here wasn't just an absence of light; it was a predator. It choked the soul. It meant being stripped of every shred of goodness. Now I understood why they kept their enemies here. What creature could withstand this?
Why is this darkness different? I wondered. Why does it make me want to die? Where does it come from?
"Before you get the death you've been begging for," Pars's voice cut through my thoughts, cold and sharp. "You're going to answer a few questions. If you don't want me to hurt you, relax and be honest. Do we have a deal?"
The prisoner shook his head violently.
Pars sighed. With a sudden burst of fury, he ripped the sack off the man's head and backhanded him across the face.
Crack.
"Don't drive me mad!" Pars roared.
The man groaned, spitting blood. His cheek flushed an angry, bruised purple. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the light, until they landed on me.
He froze.
"You..." he rasped, his eyes widening in horror. "You must be the new Weapon!"
He shouted the words so loudly I flinched.
"Don't let them fool you!" he screamed, straining against his bonds. "They tricked the others! They'll trick you! You have to get out of this city! Run!"
I peeled my back off the wall, frowning. Pars turned his head slowly, locking eyes with me.
"What?" I whispered, confusion swirling in my mind.
But it was too late for answers.
Pars moved with terrifying speed. He drew a black pistol from the waistband of his pants and pulled the trigger.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three shots. Point-blank range.
The sound was deafening in the small room. I jumped, my shoulders hunching instinctively. I watched in horror as the man's head was obliterated, blood and bone scattering across the concrete floor.
Bile rose in my throat. I gagged, clapping a hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit.
Don't throw up, I told myself fiercely. Don't let them see you break.
They knew I was weaker than them, unhardened to this brutality, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of watching me crumble. If I wanted to survive in Zehera, I had to swallow the bile.
Pars holstered his gun, his expression bored. He turned and kicked the metal door open, striding out into the darkness without a backward glance.
Kit and Leander followed immediately. Cassian lingered for a second, glancing at the body, then followed the others.
Madison was next. She had to go; they needed her light to navigate the corridor to the elevator. I waited, intending to follow in her wake, staying in the safety of the background.
But as I stepped forward, Madison stopped.
She stood in the doorway, blocking my path. She turned around, but kept her palm directed outward, the beam of light illuminating the backs of the others as they walked away.
I looked over her shoulder. Down the wide, pitch-black hallway, I saw the elevator doors slide open. Pars and the others stepped inside. They turned to face us.
Pars looked at me once. His gaze was indifferent, cold.
Cassian looked worried, his brow furrowed, but he didn't step out. He didn't call for us.
If you were really worried about me, Cassian, you wouldn't leave me behind, I thought bitterly.
The elevator doors slid shut, swallowing them whole. We were alone.
I turned my eyes to Madison. She was smiling, a twisted, triumphant thing. But I noticed her hand—the one emitting the light—was trembling.
She was terrified. She was scared to death of the dark, yet she was playing the brave soldier just to intimidate me.
"Do you think I forgot what you did that day?" she hissed through her teeth. "Crushing my foot? Embarrassing me?"
My stomach churned—not from fear, but from the sheer stupidity of the situation. We were standing on the edge of a void that consumed souls, and she was picking a fight?
I frowned, looking down at her shaking hand.
"Are you okay?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. It was a genuine question, born of confusion.
It was the wrong thing to say.
I didn't expect her to snap. I didn't expect the violence.
With a scream of rage, she swung her hand—the hand composed of searing light—and slapped me hard across the face.
Flash.
The light exploded against my eyes, blinding me. Pain seared my cheek, hot and sharp.
And then... nothing.
The light didn't just fade; it vanished. Madison had lost her focus.
The malignant darkness rushed in instantly, filling the vacuum. It wrapped around us like a suffocating blanket.
I couldn't see my own hands. I couldn't see Madison, even though she was inches away from me. I couldn't even hear her breathing. The silence of the void was absolute.
My cheek throbbed, burning from her touch, but the darkness was worse. It pressed against my skin, invading my pores.
Then, the voices returned. Whispering. Hungry.
My body went rigid.
Suddenly, a shrill, blood-curdling scream tore through the silence.
It was Madison.
We are screwed.