The blood splattered in the air, droplets hanging like dark jewels in the faint light. Yazid's hand throbbed sharply where the boy's broken piece of cement had struck, pain radiating through his arm. His breath hitched as a flood of thoughts crashed through his mind.
If something happens to me here... His eyes darted to the ruined streets beyond. How will Nadira and Salim survive without me? His jaw clenched, muscles tightening as panic threatened to rise. Yet the boy lunged again, wild and desperate, ignoring every plea Yazid made to calm him.
Then, a sudden crack shattered the tense silence—sharp and brittle, like ice fracturing beneath heavy weight. Both froze, eyes snapping toward the sound. Fear tightened its grip, but before they could move, their legs betrayed them—rooted to the ground, stiff and unyielding.
A crushing wave of air slammed down, invisible but relentless. Yazid's chest tightened as pressure pressed against him, forcing him to fight for balance. The world tilted, his knees buckling under the weight. The struggle to stand became a battle against an unseen force, swallowing the fight whole.
As the pressure slowly eased, Yazid's gaze lifted beyond the shattered ruins. Four figures glided across the sky, their presence both breathtaking and unsettling.
Dust and harsh light blurred his vision, muting the colors overhead. Shapes moved with impossible grace—four beings with enormous wings casting long, shifting shadows on the ground.
One figure bore two vast wings, dark as midnight streaked with deep crimson, gliding with a quiet majesty. Beside her, another moved with six massive wings, black and gold, folding and unfolding in seamless, silent rhythm. The natural motion sent a shiver down Yazid's spine.
A third figure, smaller and more grounded, had wings unlike any he'd seen—sleek, metallic, glowing faintly. Small bursts of fire flickered along red and blue feathers, accompanied by a low, steady hum like a distant engine. The light danced against the swirling dust, making the wings seem alive with power.
Trailing behind was a tiny girl, smaller than Yazid's own Nadira, flapping two dark wings streaked with crimson. Her movements were uneven but determined, a fierce will shining in her wide eyes.
The four did not flap their wings like birds but glided effortlessly, riding invisible currents. Their passage stirred the air, sending loose dust swirling and carrying a low whoosh that whispered across the ruins. The metallic wings added bursts of fire and a subtle mechanical hum, breaking the silence.
The ground trembled faintly beneath Yazid's feet, a reminder of the power soaring above. His heart hammered in his chest, a mix of awe and dread tightening his throat. These were no ordinary humans—something far beyond—and their arrival marked a turning point he could not yet grasp.
Both Yazid and the boy lay still, the boy unconscious and sprawled on the cracked floor. Yazid's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with exhaustion. This wasn't the first time he had seen people who could fly—beings with wings—but something about these figures chilled him to the bone. The weight of the day, the hunger gnawing at his insides, and the relentless fear began to erode his mind. His vision blurred, colors fading at the edges, and a heavy fog settled over his thoughts.
Regret clawed at him. Why did I come here? The question echoed in his fading consciousness. I shouldn't have come. I should be with my family. He tried to push himself up, to run, to escape before darkness claimed him. But his limbs refused to obey. A few agonizing inches forward, then his body gave out, collapsing under the harsh afternoon sun.
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Back at the small, fragile home, Salim sat beside Nadira, telling her a story to pass the time. The soft warmth of the afternoon sun filtered through the cracked window, casting gentle shadows on the walls. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sharp, unexpected beep of Salim's phone.
Both mother and daughter froze. Nadira's eyes widened as she looked up. "Mom, what's happening? Why is it making that sound? Could it be... another survivor's signal?"
Salim's face tightened, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't answer immediately, her mind racing. What's happening out there? What's happened to Yazid? Her hand instinctively rose to her chest, clutching it as a sudden pain stabbed through her heart. She swallowed hard, fighting back the rising panic.
Hearing Nadira's voice, she forced herself to calm down. "Yes, Nadira," she said softly, "it means we've got another signal. Someone out there... someone alive."
Nadira's face lit up with fragile hope. "Papa went out for a while. When he comes back, we can tell him about the signal. Maybe he'll be happy."
Salim pulled her daughter close, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's only afternoon. Your father will be back before nightfall."
But inside, Salim's heart was heavy with doubt. How can I go find him? she thought, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her. If I leave, Nadira will be alone. I can't do that. Tears welled in her eyes, but she swallowed them, hiding the fear from her daughter.
Time dragged on, longer than any other day. Nadira's small voice broke the silence again. "Mom, why hasn't Papa come home yet?"
Salim forced a gentle smile. "Your father called me. He said he's coming tomorrow. So don't worry."
"But where will he stay tonight?" Nadira asked, her brow furrowed. "You told me before... outside is dangerous."
Salim's smile faltered, but she answered firmly, "Your father is strong. He can survive. Don't worry."
But inside, she cursed herself. She couldn't leave the house to find him. She was trapped by fear and love, unable to protect either of them.
That night, as they lay in bed, the weight of the day seemed to slip away. For a moment, they forgot it was Nadira's birthday.
Nadira's eyes fluttered closed, drifting into sleep. But her dreams twisted into nightmares—visions of her parents being devoured by a monstrous T-Rex. She woke with a start, trembling, her small body shaking with fear.
Morning light spilled into the room. Nadira looked around, her eyes wide and searching. Her parents lay asleep beside her, but the dread clung to her like a shadow.
In her mind, the nightmare replayed: the signal on the Key, the desperate flight, the collapsing roof crushing her parents. She saw it all again and again, powerless to stop it. Her face drained of color, her expression hollow and haunted.
She sat up, trembling, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't want to live alone," she whispered brokenly. "I need my mom. I need my dad."
Outside the bedroom, Salim, exhausted and worried, had fallen into a restless sleep. The sound of Nadira's crying pierced the quiet. She stirred, then hurried into the room, her face etched with concern.
"What's wrong, Nadira?" Salim asked gently, kneeling beside her daughter.
Nadira sobbed, clutching her mother's hand. "They're going to die, Mama. I saw them... again and again. The roof... it fell on them. I can't stop it. I'm scared."
Salim's own eyes filled with tears. She pulled Nadira close, her voice trembling. "Shh, it's okay, my love. I'm here. We're safe."
___________________________________
But inside, Salim's heart broke. She couldn't stop the fear, couldn't shield her daughter from the nightmare or the harsh reality waiting outside. And all the while, her thoughts raced back to Yazid—her husband, her partner in this fragile world.
The room was heavy with sorrow, two souls bound by love and fear, clinging to each other in the face of an uncertain tomorrow.
Morning light spilled softly through the cracked window, casting pale beams across the small room. Nadira's eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as the remnants of a nightmare clung to her like a shadow. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat up, trembling.
"Mama... Papa..." she whispered, her voice breaking. The images haunted her still—dark figures, blood, and the terrifying feeling of loss.
Salim stirred beside her, immediately alert. She reached out, pulling Nadira close, whispering soothing words, but the child's sobs continued, raw and desperate.
Far from home, beneath the cold morning sun, Yazid lay collapsed on the cracked earth. The first light of dawn brushed his face, but his body remained limp, caught between sleep and wakefulness.
In his mind, a fragile dream unfolded—a vision of his family living a normal life, laughter filling a warm home, children playing in sunlit fields, a world untouched by fear or ruin.
But the dream twisted suddenly. The boy who had attacked him collapsed nearby, bloodied and unconscious. Then, a shadowy figure appeared—a man drenched in blood, clutching a knife, pressing it against a child's neck. The nightmare shattered Yazid's fragile peace.
He jolted awake, pain stabbing through his head and stomach. His eyes fluttered open, but strength was scarce. The boy still lay unconscious, his blood staining the ground.
He was already covered in blood when I came here. That's why he collapsed, Yazid thought, grimacing.
He forced himself to sit up, muscles trembling violently. I need to stand before him... then get away.
His mind raced with worry. What are Nadira and Salim facing now? Are they safe? I have to show them I'm alright. Nothing happened to me.
With great effort, he pushed himself forward, every movement a battle against his weakening body. The sun warmed his face, but the weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on his soul.