The wind clawed at Jayden's face as Wendy maneuvered the bike through the shattered streets, weaving between abandoned cars and burning wreckage. Every breath was a struggle, every heartbeat a scream in his ears.
Matilda clung to him, feeling the weakness in his muscles. He was slipping.
"We're almost there," Wendy shouted over the roar of the engine.
Jayden didn't respond. He couldn't. His body was shutting down, every injury catching up to him all at once.
They burst into a hidden courtyard tucked behind the ruins of a forgotten library. Ancient stone walls surrounded them, tall and cracked, but still standing — a shelter against the chaos.
Wendy killed the engine and jumped off.
"We don't have much time," she said, dragging Jayden off the bike with Matilda's help.
A door opened in the wall. An old man with a scarred face and trembling hands appeared. His clothes were tattered, but his eyes burned with life.
"You brought him," he rasped. "Good. Good."
Wendy pushed Jayden toward him. "He's dying. Save him."
The old man nodded grimly and pulled Jayden inside.
---
The room was dark, smelling of dust and forgotten dreams. A single bed stood in the corner. The old man, called Elias, worked quickly, muttering under his breath in a language neither Matilda nor Wendy understood.
Jayden drifted in and out of consciousness.
He saw flashes of Matilda's face — streaked with dirt and tears.
He heard Wendy's voice — hard and desperate — arguing with Elias.
He felt hands on his chest, pressing, burning, pulling him back from the edge.
And somewhere in the darkness of his mind... he heard another voice.
"You are not done yet."
---
When Jayden woke, it was night.
The pain was still there, but dulled. His body was wrapped tightly in bandages, his wounds cleaned and stitched.
He tried to move and failed.
"Don't," Matilda whispered, appearing at his side. She looked like she hadn't slept in days.
"You'll tear them open again."
Jayden licked his dry lips. "Where... are we?"
"A safe house," Wendy said, stepping into the room, her face grave. "But not for long. Sophia won't stop. Not until she has your blood and the inheritance."
Jayden stared at the cracked ceiling.
Something inside him was breaking — not his body this time, but the last remnants of the boy who thought he could outrun fate.
"I have to end this," he said hoarsely.
Matilda shook her head, eyes wide. "You can't even stand—"
"I have to," Jayden interrupted. "This doesn't stop unless I make it stop."
Wendy's lips pressed into a hard line. "Then you'll need more than a few friends and a broken body."
Jayden met her gaze. In his weakness, there was something stronger now. Something colder.
"I'll have the world if I must," he said.
And for the first time, Wendy smiled.
---
Outside, the stars flickered over a sleeping world.
Tomorrow would come. With blood, with fire, with betrayal.
But broken wings still fly.
And Jayden was about to learn how.
--