Simon worked the lock with shaking hands, his breath ragged in the darkness of the transport truck. The rest of us huddled together, barely daring to move, every jolt of the vehicle sending a fresh wave of nausea through my gut. Time was running out. The execution site was getting closer with every turn of the wheels.

  “I’ve almost got it,” Simon whispered, his fingers working feverishly. Sweat dripped down his temple as the tiny metal pick scraped against the mechanism. A click—one cuff open. He shoved it into Mara’s hands while already working on the next.

  The truck lurched, throwing him off balance. “Damn it,” he hissed, regaining control.

  Another lock. Another. My heart pounded as I clenched my fists, watching the driver’s shadow shift in the front cabin.

  Finally, the last cuff sprang open. Simon exhaled sharply, gripping the pick like a lifeline. "We’re out."

  Mara grabbed my arm. “This is it. We make our move now.”

  Victor flexed his hands, rubbing the circulation back into his wrists, his eyes darting toward the front of the truck. Two guards. A driver and his companion. He licked his lips. “We take them out fast.”

  Gray, silent as ever, shifted slightly, preparing himself. Simon swallowed hard, nodding. We had no weapons, but we had surprise. And we had desperation.

  Mara gave the signal. The second the truck hit a bump, throwing us off balance, we surged forward.

  Simon lunged for the nearest guard, his fingers digging into the man’s throat. The guard thrashed, slamming Simon’s head against the metal wall, but Simon held on, gritting his teeth. Mara and I tackled the second guard, his rifle pinned between us as he tried to bring the butt of the weapon down on her head. I grabbed the barrel and wrenched it away, but the guard drove his knee into my ribs, knocking the air out of me. The truck veered violently as the driver shouted in alarm, struggling to keep control of the vehicle.

  Gray moved like a shadow, striking hard and fast. He elbowed the driver’s companion in the throat, then twisted his arm back at an unnatural angle, forcing the man to cry out before slamming his head into the dashboard. The driver reached for his sidearm—

  Then. Victor bolted.

  He shoved open the back of the truck and leapt onto the road.

  “No!” I shouted, but it was too late. He was running, sprinting across the dirt road, heading for the tree line.

  The guard Mara and I had been fighting took advantage of the distraction. With a roar, he slammed his elbow into my temple, sending me reeling backward. Simon yelped as the guard he was grappling with reversed their positions, pinning him down with a knee. The truck swerved, knocking us off balance.

  A shot rang out.

  Fifty or so feet away from the truck, Victor staggered mid-stride. Another crack of gunfire. He collapsed.

  The fight inside the truck stopped. Simon, panting, his hands wrapped around the guard’s throat, hesitated. Mara’s fingers slackened on the rifle. Even Gray, for the first time, looked uncertain.

  The guards took their chance. A baton slammed into my ribs. I doubled over, gasping for air. Rough hands grabbed my arms, forcing them behind my back. Someone wrenched Simon away, throwing him hard against the side of the truck. The last thing I saw before the butt of a rifle smashed into my skull was Victor’s unmoving body in the dirt.

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  The cold morning air bit at my skin as they marched us forward. The sky was an eerie shade of yellow-gray, heavy with clouds that seemed too thick, too unnatural. This was our one chance, and we lost it. The damp stone beneath my bare feet made me shiver, but it wasn’t just the cold. It was the knowledge that this was it. The end of the line.

  Mara was silent now, her jaw clenched so tight I thought she might break her own teeth. Simon was gasping for breath, muttering something under his breath—praying or bargaining, I couldn’t tell which. And Gray? He stood perfectly still, his expression unreadable as ever. If he was afraid, he didn’t show it.

  As the guards lined us against a cracked stone wall, Elias couldn't look away. The surface was pitted and uneven, worn down not just by time, but by the lives that had ended here. In the tiny fractures of the stone, he saw remnants—dark stains too deep to wash away, tiny fragments of bone embedded like whispers of the past. People had stood here, just like him, breathing their last, their entire existence reduced to these remnants. They had lived whole lives—loved, feared, fought—only to become nothing more than a stain in the cracks. The weight of that truth pressed against his chest.

  Simon let out a broken sob. “I'm not ready to die...”

  One of the officers barked the command. "Ready!"

  The squad shifted, rifles steady.

  "Aim!"

  The world slowed. Every breath, every heartbeat stretched unbearably long.

  Gray tilted his head slightly, his voice calm, almost intrigued. "It would seem so."

  "Fi..."

  Then—darkness.

  A moment of weightlessness, sinking and rising at the same time. A faint hum, distant and reverberating, like a sound not meant for human ears. The air thickened, pressing against my skin, wrapping around me like invisible hands pulling me in every direction at once. My thoughts fractured, torn from my mind and scattered like dust in a hurricane.

  A brilliant flash behind my eyelids, searing but soundless. Colors I had no name for burst through my vision, shifting, twisting, folding in on themselves. I felt my body dissolve—no, not dissolve, but unravel—stretched across something vast and incomprehensible. I was falling through infinity, and at the same time, I was standing still.

  Then—silence.

  A gasp. My gasp. My lungs heaved, dragging in air like a drowning man breaking the surface. The pain was gone, but its phantom echoes lingered. My skin tingled, not quite mine, the remnants of something alien clinging to it.

  I stood, breathless, my pulse hammering.

  I let out a shaky breath, my fingers curling into fists. "Tell me someone else remembers that. The wall, the shots—" I shook my head, my pulse pounding. "We were dead. Weren't we?"

  Gray hesitated for the briefest moment before exhaling. "Yeah… seems that way."

  Around me, the others stirred, coughing, groaning, their confusion mirroring my own. Every face was different, every body unfamiliar, yet somehow, I knew them.

  Then the air hit—thick and electric, buzzing in my ears like an unspoken warning. The ground beneath me was too smooth, too artificial. My breath caught as I looked up.

  We weren’t just anywhere.

  Then came the noise—low and resonant, like a distant siren buried beneath the earth. A shiver ran down my spine. The very air seemed to press against my skin, thick with unseen weight. The horizon stretched unnaturally far, as if space itself had unraveled. My stomach churned, my mind still trying to catch up with the impossible shift. Moments ago, I had stood in front of a firing squad, staring death in the face. Now, I was here—wherever here was.

  Then I saw it.

  A skyline, vast and endless, flickered into view like a mirage—an immense city stretching in every direction. The buildings rose impossibly high, their edges sharp and unnatural, silhouetted against a sky that pulsed faintly, like a living thing. I could only see fragments—an alley disappearing into nothingness, a street twisting back on itself, lights blinking in a pattern I couldn’t quite understand. My head throbbed as I tried to focus, as if the city itself resisted being fully perceived. Then, just as I tried to focus, it seemed to slip from my awareness—still there, but beyond my grasp. The buildings, the streets, the impossible skyline hadn’t disappeared, but rather shifted just beyond my perception, like something seen from the corner of my eye. The more I tried to fix on it, the more elusive it became, as if the city itself refused to be truly seen.

  I swallowed hard. "is anyone else—"

  "See it?" Gray finished, his voice low. "Yeah. And it's not a trick."

  I turned in a slow circle, my pulse still racing. The others looked just as shaken, their breaths coming fast and shallow. My fingers twitched involuntarily, as if trying to grasp onto something solid, something real. But nothing about this place felt real.

  Something shifted. Not just the place—reality itself.

  If you enjoyed this chapter, don’t forget to like and follow for more!

  Your support helps a lot, and I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

  I made some edits. There was a bit of repeated text in the previous version, and I expanded Elias’ realization of his past memory. I wanted it to hit harder, be more respected, and feel fully fleshed out in both tone and placement. Reliving these moments as his life flashes before his eyes creates a different kind of impact, and I think it makes for a more powerful experience.

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  As a newer writer, I’m always looking to improve and craft the best experience for readers. If this chapter resonated with you—or even if it didn’t—let me know your thoughts! Did this moment hit the way I intended? I’d love to hear your perspective in the comments.