His eyes widened, and his sneer fell. The flames on his body flickered once, then fell away entirely, leaving behind a weak, copper-skinned man. His face was hollow, eyes sunken and empty. The aura of invincibility vanished with the fire. "What did you do to me?" he gasped, staring at his hands like they no longer belonged to him.

  You’ll need it. Trigger’s voice echoed through my head. I didn’t remember dropping the gun. I didn’t think—I just moved. I snatched the flasher from the ash-covered ground and fired straight into his skull.

  Something wet splattered across my face as my vision went white. For a moment, the world ceased to exist—just light and the ringing silence of the shot.

  Tears streamed freely down my face as I stumbled forward, clawing at the white haze, trying to find something solid, something real. The flasher… now I understood why it was named that.

  Was the Legacy dead? Or was he behind me, circling, laughing? I waved my hands wildly, disoriented and frantic, stumbling through smoke and ash. The air crackled with fire. Every house nearby groaned under the weight of burning timber.

  "Lexy? Where are you?" Grace’s voice cut through the noise like a lifeline.

  "Grace, run!" I screamed, and then something gripped my shoulders—rough hands, calloused but not burning. I screamed again, my body on pure instinct. I thrashed, broke free, and stumbled blindly away.

  Voices rose up around me, faceless and muffled.

  "She killed him!"

  "She killed it."

  The Legacy was dead? It couldn’t be that simple. It had to be a trick.

  I screamed again, thrashing as hands grabbed at me. "I need to see Grace! Grace!" My voice cracked, raw with desperation. Black spots started to invade the white nothingness clouding my vision.

  Shapes—color—faces began to push through the fog. A sea of people. Muted outlines turned into real forms, blurred at the edges. They stood around me like ghosts rising from the ruins.

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  "Grace?" I gasped and shoved forward. I had to find her. I had to get to her.

  Strong hands held me back. "Let go of me!" I screamed, panicked. The world sharpened into terrifying focus. The crowd moved with me, some parting, others watching. More survivors were creeping out from the alleys like shadows drawn to the aftermath.

  She wasn’t there.

  Where was she?

  "You need to stop fighting us," said a deep voice near my ear. He was one of the hands holding me steady. "We’ve taken your mother and sister to the van. You need to calm down."

  A van? They had Grace and Mother?

  Smoke clawed at my throat. I coughed, choked, and twisted out of their grasp. I raised the flasher without thinking, pointing the barrel at the one who’d spoken. "What do you want with us?" My voice shook, but I held it firm. I was dangerous now. I had to be.

  "We’ll tell you once you're safe." He lifted his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. A blue badge gleamed on the front of his black armor.

  Enforcement.

  How had they gotten here so fast? What did they want?

  Then I felt it—that cold, awful pressure. The barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of my head.

  "Come with us now, or I’ll blow your brains out. Give me the gun."

  His voice wasn’t like the other’s. It had no gentleness, just authority and threat.

  Gasps echoed from the crowd. They gave us space, none of them wanting to be caught in the line of fire.

  "Give me the gun. Now."

  The pressure increased. My hands trembled. Slowly, I lowered the flasher. The man behind me snatched it from my grip.

  And just like that, I was vulnerable. I couldn’t protect myself. I couldn’t protect Grace. The flasher had given me power, even if only for a moment. Now it was gone.

  I couldn’t breathe. My chest heaved, like water was rising in my lungs. My vision buzzed, the edges of the world fading into blur.

  "Now follow us to the car," the voice behind me said.

  I turned and saw him for the first time—cold, disinterested, already walking ahead through the crowd. “It’s right down this alleyway.”

  Then something sharp jabbed into my neck.

  A sting. Like a bug bite.

  My legs… I couldn’t feel my legs.

  Everything slowed down. The sounds, the light, my own thoughts. I took a step and fell. My knee hit the ground hard. I tried to stand but collapsed again. Blackness crept in from the edges of my vision.

  Nausea swept through me like poison. My limbs felt heavy—like I was sinking beneath the surface of the world.

  The street dipped and turned in odd, impossible angles. I tried to follow, to push forward, but nothing made sense. Then—hands. Someone caught me.

  "Lexy!"

  Grace.

  Her voice echoed in my head.

  "Grace!" I tried to scream, but it came out a breath. She wasn’t there.

  "Lexy!"

  I needed to find them. I needed to protect them.

  But I couldn’t move.

  The hands lifted me—blurred voices above me, shadowed faces bent close. I could see the faint outlines of two forms crouched over me.

  Their voices twisted into each other like smoke.

  Then darkness.

  Not the kind you blink away.

  The kind that swallows you whole.