The darkness wasn’t a friend. But I could see a faint light. I could feel myself again. That beating was horrible. My ankles didn’t feel broken, and I walked toward the light. The closer I got, the wider it grew, eating away the dark around me. My arms tingled, my chest ached, but I could move. I heard voices—familiar ones—arguing, panicking. The light formed into shapes, and those shapes became sound, and I realized I wasn’t underground or in a cave anymore. I was on Hanscom Air Force Base.
The air smelled like oil and cold metal. Streetlights hummed over damp asphalt. The wind carried the faint echo of generators and jets parked far away. The silence felt military—structured, but hollow. I looked down at my shoes—same scuff marks, same dirt from yesterday. Somehow, I was home. Or something wanted me to think I was.
The night air cut at my skin. It wasn’t just the cold; it was the reminder that this place didn’t care. It had order, fences, guards, rules—but not warmth. Every window I passed glowed soft and yellow, families inside probably watching TV, kids doing homework. My family should’ve been one of them. Mom on her laptop, Dad pretending to read while really scrolling his phone, Celine drawing in the corner. That’s all I wanted back. Just that.
But my chest wouldn’t stop tightening. I could still feel the car. The screech of tires. The heat of the engine as it hit me. I reached for my ribs and felt the ghost of pain. My body remembered even if the bones didn’t. I couldn’t move. My legs locked up. The street ahead shimmered under the floodlights. I could almost see the SUV again, headlights cutting through the dark. I could smell the gas, the burnt rubber, the blood in my mouth. My breathing sped up. Sweat broke across my forehead. My heart punched against my ribs. I bent forward, trying to breathe, but it wasn’t working.
Then Brenda’s face flashed in my head—her eyes empty, her body shaking, Hercules above her. Ifrit screaming. My chest caved in. I wanted to run then too. I did run. I left them. Oya fought alone. I left her too, even if she survived. Just like Dad left us.
The disgust was back, heavier than the fear. It crawled up my spine, whispering that I was exactly like him. I gripped my knees and forced a breath. “Stop,” I told myself, but my body didn’t listen.
The sound of footsteps hit my ears, and I flinched. A voice followed.
“Lonnie?”
Patrick stood under a streetlight, hands in the pocket of his blue UNC hoodie. His breath fogged the air.
“Patrick,” I said, straightening. “What are you doing here? You don’t live on base.”
He smiled like we’d just seen each other at lunch. “Miss you too, man.” He helped me stand all the way up, his hand firm, real.
“It’s late,” I said. “You visiting someone?”
“Nicole,” he said. “She still likes you, by the way. Says she forgave you for picking Jessica in sixth grade.”
“That’s… nice.”
“You need help crossing the road?” His smile was easy, but something in his eyes wasn’t.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” I said before I could stop myself.
He tilted his head. “Oh, I think you know.”
“What?” I asked.
A shimmer of gold light flickered next to him. It twisted and formed into a woman—gray-brown hair in a bun, skin pale like moonlight, eyes a soft amber. A yellow frilled dress that didn’t belong anywhere near a military base.
“Master,” she said gently, like it was her first word in centuries.
Patrick grinned. “Lonnie, meet Betsy Ross. My Piece.”
My mouth went dry. “You’re a mage?”
“And so are you,” he said. “You summoned yours, right?”
The air rippled beside me. Oya appeared, eyes sharp, lightning flickering faintly behind her pupils. Her presence pushed the shadows back.
“So what now?” I asked, my voice quiet.
“Relax,” Patrick said. “Betsy was flying me home. She can manipulate kinetic fields—basically ride her own force to move through the air. We were cruising over the base when I sensed your mana signature.”
“Mana signature?”
“You’re broadcasting like a damn beacon,” he said, smirking. “You, April, Daniel. Whole area’s lighting up. You really don’t know anything, huh?”
“Guess not.”
He clapped my shoulder. “Then you need training. Talk to Anna Daniels. She’s helping new mages stabilize their Pieces before they lose control.”
Oya stepped forward, her expression unreadable. Patrick glanced at her and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not saying she’ll turn on you, sweetheart.” Betsy moved behind him, looping her arms under his.
“Anyway, there are witch hunters, rogue mages, maniacs out there. You got lucky surviving whatever that was.”
He didn’t know how right he was. I could still feel the heat of Hercules’s breath, the way Andy’s hands crushed my ankles. I forced myself to blink it away.
Patrick smiled again. “I’ll have Betsy guard your house. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“We’ll be fine,” I said.
Oya’s eyes softened for half a second before narrowing again.
“Suit yourself.”
Betsy raised her hand, and a transparent pillar of energy surrounded them. The air shimmered like heat off asphalt.
“Being a mage’s rough,” Patrick called down, “but it’s pretty damn cool, right?”
The wind pushed against me as they lifted off and disappeared into the night.
The silence after felt wrong. Too empty. Too heavy.
Oya walked beside me, the air still buzzing faintly with leftover charge.
“We need allies,” she said quietly.
“I need sleep,” I said. “And maybe a new brain.”
We walked. The familiar buildings came into view—housing, the park, the old playground near the fence line. I could see the corner before home. I thought I’d feel relief, but my chest tightened again.
My hand went numb. I shook it out, but the numbness crawled up my arm, spreading fast. My skin shimmered. My breath hitched.
“Oya,” I said, my voice cracking.
Her head snapped toward me. “That’s not natural,” she said. “Someone’s calling you.”
The air bent around me like glass warping under heat. The ground pulled away. I felt a heartbeat that wasn’t mine. April. I could feel her. The pull wasn’t violent, just absolute.
“Oya—”
Her hand reached through the distortion. “Master! Someone’s summoning you!”
Her voice echoed as the light swallowed everything. My last thought wasn’t fear this time—it was her name.
And then I was gone.