"Move," Liam ordered, his voice calm but firm.
The girl didnât hesitate. She sprang into motion, following right behind him like her life depended on itâwhich it did. Her footsteps were clumsy, but her survival instinct took over. She didnât look back, didnât question. She just moved.
Then came the sound.
A grunt. Deep. Guttural. Animalistic.
The burning man fell forward slightly, his body crackling and glowing with violent pulses of green fire. His eyes rolled back in his skull. His jaw unhinged. The heat around him surged.
ThenâBOOOOOM.
The explosion tore through the floor with a sickening roar. A wall of green fire burst out from the room, obliterating everything in its path. The shockwave thundered outward with brutal force, flattening furniture, ripping steel fixtures from the walls, and turning support beams into projectiles. It wasnât just an explosionâit was an eruption. Unnatural. Violent. Alive.
Outside, the effect hit almost instantly.
The building shuddered like it was taking its last breath. Glass blew out of multiple windows, shattering in the air. Fireballs shot into the sky. A wave of compressed air and heat blasted outward, strong enough to knock several firefighters off their feet. Even those further back were pushed several steps away, boots skidding on asphalt.
Nobody was injured, but the impact was undeniable.The street went dead silent.
Chief Rowland froze in place, his helmet nearly slipping from his hand. His wide eyes reflected the sickly green glow now twisting into the sky like a demonâs pyre.
He had seen fires. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Infernos, collapses, even chemical blazes that painted the air with poison. But this? This was different. This wasnât natural. It wasnât man-made either. It was something else.
Something worse.
"Chief!" someone shouted from behind him. "The fire is getting wild!"
He didnât turn.
He already knew.
The pressure in the air. The color of the flames. The fact that waterâgallons of itâwas being poured in and not a single patch was dying down. It was all fuel. Every drop of water was feeding the monster instead of killing it.
He dropped his shoulders slightly.
His voice, when it finally came out, was quiet. "I already told you to stop. The waterâs not working."
The statement hung heavy in the air. No orders. No follow-ups. Just cold, defeated truth.
Every firefighter stopped what they were doing. Even the ones by the hoses lowered their grips.
Then, one by one, they all turned.No words were spoken.Their eyes found her.
Lilith.
Still sitting on the hood of that ash-covered red car, arms crossed. The fireâs reflection danced across her pale skin, but she didnât flinch. She hadnât moved since the blast. Not a twitch. Not a blink. Like the explosion had been a gust of wind instead of a detonation that couldâve leveled a block.
Her gaze never left the building. She wasnât concerned.Not even slightly.
â
Inside, the young woman had screamed and dropped to the floor as the explosion tore the building apart. She didnât see what happened. She didnât hear anything beyond the initial blast. But she felt somethingâSomething wrap around her.
She thought she was dead. She was sure of it. The heat, the flames, the forceâit shouldâve ended her instantly.
But it didnât.
She opened her eyes slowly, breath caught in her throat.She wasnât burning.She wasnât even touched.
In front of her, wrapped around her body like an impenetrable barrier, was Liam.
White wings.
Glowing.
Large, powerful, and radiant. They curved around her like a divine shield. The fire didnât touch them. The blast hadnât even bent a single feather. The air was calmer inside the wings, protected and quiet, like being inside a sanctuary while the world tore itself apart outside.
Liam didnât speak. He didnât need to.
The moment the fire settledâjust slightlyâhe moved.
The ceiling had already been ripped open. There was no roof anymore, just a gaping hole above them. Smoke and fire rose toward the sky, and through it, Liam leapt.
He held the girl tightly in his arms and launched upward, bursting through the opening like an angel rising from hell. The fire raged beneath them, clawing upward, but it couldnât touch them. Couldnât even get close.
Liamâs wings spread fully the moment they cleared the flames. He hovered for a second in the smoky sky, the firelight below casting a surreal glow on his features. Then he angled forward and descended.
Smooth and Graceful.
Below, everyone had stopped working. The firefighters had pulled back after the explosion. Medics, crew, even onlookers behind the barricadeâthey all stared upward.
Then they saw him.
Descending from the heavens.
Wings glowing softly. Arms cradling a soot-covered girl. His face calm, unreadable. his hair wild from the heat, but none of it diminished him.
He didnât look human.
He looked like a god.
Lilithâs lips finally twitched upward into a grin. She didnât say anything. She didnât need to.
Because now, everyone saw what she already knew.
Liam landed gently on the scorched pavement. His wings folded behind him as he crouched slightly, absorbing the weight of the girlâs fall. He rose smoothly and set her down on her feet, one hand resting on her back.
"Are you alright?" he asked her softly.
The girl stared up at him, eyes wide. Her face was blackened with soot, but her cheeks were red with adrenaline. Her heart thudded in her chest so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
She nodded quickly. "Y-yeah..."
Liam gave her a short nod and stepped back.
Chief Rowland finally snapped out of his frozen daze. He looked toward his crew and shouted, "Get her checked! Now! Burns, smoke inhalationâdonât waste time!"
Medics rushed forward, guiding the girl toward the nearest emergency stretcher.
Rowland turned and walked slowly toward Liam.
Each step was heavy. Cautious. His boots crunched glass and ash underfoot. When he finally stood before the young man, he didnât speak.
He just looked up at him.
For a moment, he felt like he shouldnât even be talking. Like the words he had prepared were too small.Too... human.
So he said nothing.
He just stood there, shoulders low, eyes full of quiet admiration.
And Liam didnât say a word either.
Not yet.
âââ
Liam didnât return to the factory right away.Instead, with Lilith resting against his side, he kept flyingâover the wreckage, over the smoke-filled skyline, over what was left of the city.
He didnât slow down.Not when his wings began to ache. Not when the adrenaline faded. Not even when the heat in his veins started to feel like fire itself. He kept moving. Kept scanning the streets below.And when he saw someone in danger, he dropped.
More than once, he pulled people from burning wreckage. Once, he tore open the side of a flipped bus with his bare hands. He carried children out of collapsed buildings, helped medics lift wounded civilians, cleared debris with bursts of brute force while firefighters and rescue teams scrambled to keep up. Lilithwatched it all.
She had recovered enough to stand. Enough to move. But she didnât interfere. He wouldnât let her.
This was his war now.
And he wasnât losing anyone else tonight.
By the time the sun finally dipped behind the horizon, casting long shadows through broken skyscrapers, the chaos had stopped.The screaming had faded.The city wasnât on fire anymore.It was quiet.
Only the aftermath remained.
Bodies were being pulled from wreckage. Streets were littered with debris, blood, glass, and the smell of chemicals. But no more explosions. No more serum-users running wild.
Because they were all dead.
Every single one of them.
All those who had taken the serum and used itâdied. Some exploded from overload. Some tore themselves apart. Others collapsed after their powers consumed them entirely. Their bodies couldnât handle the transformation, the madness. Whatever promise the Crimson Hand had made... it was a lie.
News broke fast.
By sundown, major media outlets were reporting the truth.It wasnât just criminals who had taken the serum.It was rich men. Executives. Politicians. Investors.And now they were coming forwardâpublicly.
They confessed.
On live television, in front of cameras, with reporters in their faces. One after the other. Admitting they were recruited by a group. Admitting they were given the serum without being told the cost.
Theyâd been promised power.Theyâd been promised control.But instead, they lost their minds.
And the world watched.
Not just the city.The whole world.
People across countries tuned in, reading headlines, watching live feeds of firestorms and burning towers, hearing the screams and sirens from blocks away. Panic spread. Anger. Then confusion.
And through it allâone face kept surfacing.
A young man. Mid-twenties at most. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Blue eyes.
He had been captured on shaky video footage carrying victims out of the flames. In one clip, he flew straight through a collapsing building with a child in his arms. In another, he shielded a group of civilians with his wings just before a building gave way.
That manâs face went viral.
Liam.
They didnât know his name yet, but it didnât matter.He was being called everythingâ"The Angel of Ashes.""The Unknown Savior.""The Hero of the Collapse."
The government was looking for him.News anchors debated whether he was a meta-human, a vigilante, or something else entirely.And every official bodyâlocal and federalâwanted to find him.
To thank him.To reward him.To make sense of what the hell had just happened.
But Liam didnât know any of that.
He didnât care.
By the time he returned to the factory, the sky was completely dark. Lilith was in his arms again, resting silently with her head on his chest. She hadnât spoken for the last ten minutes. She didnât need to.
She had regained her strength, her body healed, but she let him carry her anyway.
The moment his boots touched the ground outside the factoryâs west entrance, he staggered slightly.
His wings folded behind him, and that was when it hit.
Pain.
He groaned quietly, lifting a hand to his head. The sharp pressure in his skull made his vision blur for a second.
Lilith immediately looked up. "Liam?"
He forced a faint smirk and lowered his hand. "Just a headache."
That was a lie.
His legs were already trembling. His vision was pulsing in and out of focus. His breath came slow and uneven. His body was on the edgeâwhatever energy had carried him through the day was gone now. Burned out.
But he couldnât let her see that. Not yet.
He moved toward the factory door, ignoring the pounding in his head. He looked up at the camera tucked above the frame. A faint red light blinked. It scanned his face, confirmed his identity, then clicked open with a mechanical groan.
The steel door slid inward.
He entered.
Lilith followed, her heels soft against the cement as they stepped inside. She slowed down almost immediately.
It was her first time here.
The factory was old, industrial, but heavily modified. The ground floor had been reinforced. Wires hung from support beams. Computer systems lined the far walls. Surveillance feeds, tracking interfaces, data mapsâeverything humming with low, constant energy.
Lilith walked deeper in, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Youâve been hiding this?"
Liam didnât answer. He kept walking.
And then she heard the soundâdozens of overlapping voices from speakers. News reports. Emergency broadcast loops. Analyst chatter. Radio dispatches.
They were all saying the same thing.Reporting the same chaos.And all of it centered around him.
Up ahead, sitting in front of the main console, Dickson slouched low in a rolling chair with a plate of half-eaten fries in front of him. The glow from the monitors painted his face green and blue in the dim light. His fingers were stained with salt. His eyes flicked lazily between feeds.
Behind him, Vanessa was seated on a couch, typing furiously into her laptop. Her hair was pulled back, and her brow was furrowed in deep concentration.
Dickson glanced at the monitors againâThen turned.And saw her.
His jaw dropped slightly.
"...Lilith?"
She raised an eyebrow, stepping forward.
Dickson rubbed his head miserably and sighed."Of all the days for you to walk in..."