Chapter 151

“So we destroy Unity,” I said, laying out plainly, “and that gives us the mana to get everyone out.”

Vel, Thae, and Clo nodded without hesitation.

Mirri, Serah, Lilae, and Ashlara just stared at me.

Jenkins and Donnelly watched like they were hearing something they didn’t understand - but were starting to realize they might have to believe anyway.

Tansy kept her eyes down, refusing to look at anyone after everything Mirri had just torn out of her.

Nim looked bored.

Moss crunched thoughtfully on a rock.

I turned to Mirri. “Does that work for you?” I asked, quieter now.

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes searched my face - really searched it - like she was trying to find the man she fell in love with and measure him against whatever the hell I’d become.

After a long moment, she gave a slow, **** nod.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and stood, turning to the people gathered behind the wall.

“We’re getting you out of here,” I said. “But I need you to work with Officer Jenkins and Detective Donnelly. Do what they say, and you’ll make it home.”

“How do we know they won’t shoot us?” someone shouted.

“Because Harris is a good man,” I said. “And he’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

I held their eyes, one by one.

“We’re going to build a tunnel from here to there. It’ll be lit. Covered. Safe on all sides.” My voice stayed even, confident. “No rushing. No pushing. You stay together, you help each other, and you will get through.”

I paused, letting that settle. “If someone stumbles, you pick them up. If someone’s scared, you keep them moving.” My gaze landed on the man who’d challenged me earlier. “Can you do that? For me?” I asked. Then, softer, “For each other?”

A few hesitant nods. Murmurs.

Not enough.

“I said - can you do that for me?” I raised my voice, letting it carry.

This time the answer came back stronger. Clearer. Not enthusiastic, but they were starting to rally.

I nodded once. “Good. Thank you.”

I turned back. “Donnelly - you’re on point. Jenkins, you take the rear.”

Then I drew in a breath and looked toward the staff embedded in the wall. “I’ll let Harris know we have a plan.”

* * *

“I don’t like it,” Harris said after a quiet exchange with Alvarez and Patel. “But it’s cleaner than what we’ve got. If we do this, we do it once - and we do it right.” He turned slightly. “Alvarez, I want complete control on the receiving end. Lock it down. Authorized responders only.”

She gave a sharp nod.

Harris looked back to the staff. “Seth - you sure you can light this tunnel clearly?”

“Yes,” I said. “Bright white, end to end. We build it, we light it. You verify and give me three flashes. We answer with three green. Then movement starts. Red at any point means something’s wrong. You use your judgment.”

“Copy.” He dragged a hand over his face, exhaustion showing through the cracks. “We’ll get ready on our side.”

“There are two more things,” I said.

He didn’t hide the fact that he didn’t like that.

“First - once we start, we lose this line. I need everything in the staff to build the tunnel. After that, we’re back to shouting.”

He let out a slow breath. “Alright. What’s next?”

“Not done. You’ll need to keep your people clear of the staff while this happens,” I said. “It might… ignite. If it does, it’ll melt steel.”

“Jesus.” He turned away for a moment, staring up into the smoke-choked sky, then back again. “We’ll cordon it off. Fire team on standby. What else?”

“There are still hostiles in the park,” I said. “While people move, my family draws them off. Keep the heat away from the tunnel.”

“No.” The answer came fast. Final. “Absolutely not.”

“Then this doesn’t go smooth,” I said evenly. “The moment that tunnel opens, they know exactly where to hit. I don’t know how many there are, what they’ve got, or what they can do. You want these people safe? My family runs interference. Otherwise, people die.”

Harris ground a hand into his stubble, jaw tight, thinking it through. He knew I wasn’t wrong. He just didn’t like where it led.

“If you do this,” he said slowly, “they stay out of my sightlines. No contact with my people. No crossing the corridor. No sudden moves.”

“We’ll stay north,” I said. “Make sure it’s clear at least a block back from the edge of the park. You won’t see us. We won’t see you.”

He worked his jaw, then gave a short nod.

“Alright,” he said. “We do it your way. I’ll tell you when we’re ready.”

* * *

I reached for my mana and pulled it close, gathering it tight around me.

I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I had to help Ishaan. I had to protect the people in town. I had to stop Sszarik. Stop all of them.

I wasn’t good at magic. Mirri said I had talent - that I just needed to apply myself.

I didn’t want to.

I wanted to spend time with my friends. I wanted to shop, to laugh, to wander the market. I wanted to read, to paint, to learn about my people - not fight them.

I kept up with the others. With Tib. With Mak. I was better than Torvek.

But the others were so much better. They wanted it. Magic was a game to them, something to master, something to win. They didn’t have friends. They weren’t popular. They didn’t care about being liked.

I did.

Cold flooded outward from me. The temperature plummeted as frost bloomed across my skin. Ice crawled over my scales, sealing into place, hardening into a thin, glimmering shell.

They dropped me with yelps as the cold bit into their hands.

I hit the ground and pushed myself up, breath shaking, tears freezing against my cheeks. Ice armored my body, thin but solid, crackling softly as it spread.

“Get her into the godsdamned tree!” Sszarik shouted.

Mal and Ron rushed me.

I moved - just like Ashie taught me - slipping to the side instead of meeting them head-on. My fist drove up into Ron’s jaw.

He went down hard.

I turned to face Mal, but Eira slammed into my back, knocking the breath from me and sending me stumbling toward the tree.

The branches reached - slow and hungry.

I rolled forward, kicking both feet up into Eira’s stomach. She folded with a gasp and flew backward.

Kip lunged.

A spike of ice tore free from my hand - sharp and sudden - and slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet.

Fizzi ran.

Mal hit me from the behind, arms locking around me. Sszarik’s fist smashed into my face.

The world lurched sideways. For a heartbeat, everything spun and I forgot what I was doing. My knees buckled. Blood filled my mouth.

He hit me again and something cracked.

My head rang, a dull, crushing sound that swallowed everything else.

Hands grabbed my legs. The ground dragged beneath me. They were pulling me toward the tree.

I screamed. Kicked. Twisted.

I pulled my legs in and lashed out, my heel catching Sszarik in the chest.

He staggered back and then stopped. Frozen. His face twisted - not in anger - but in surprise.

The branches continued moving toward each of us.

Blood slipped from his lips in a thin line as he swayed. He tried to step back and failed. The branch behind him already had him - my kick driving it into his back. It dragged him - painfully slowly towards the trunk.

I scrambled, forcing my feet under me.

And stepped.

* * *

I stripped off my armored shirt and emptied my cloak onto the ground.

The bandages were already gone. The food, too. The spare clothes had been torn apart and wrapped around wounds. The sweets I’d brought - those had gone to the kids we pulled out of the fire.

I kept what mattered.

The folding knife slid into the front pocket of my jeans. My journal into the back. I tossed the rope. Tib’s toolkit went into my other pocket, along with the last of my cash.

That was it.

Mirri, Serah, and I would build the tunnel. Lilae would light it. The ferals would keep the rest of the world off us. Ashlara would hold the wall.

Harris was nearly set. Our side was as ready as it was ever going to be.

I walked over to Donnelly and Jenkins. “Gentlemen,” I said, offering my hand. “It’s been an honor.”

They shook it - firm, friendly, warm.

“Thank you for taking care of Lilae,” I told Jenkins. “I’m glad she found you.”

“She’s a great kid,” he said, a tired smile breaking through.

Lilae stepped in and hugged him tight. He hesitated for half a second, then hugged her back.

Donnelly let out a dry breath. “Never thought my day would end like this.”

“It’s not over yet,” I said.

“We’ll get them through,” Jenkins said. “And we’ll put in a good word for you on the other side.”

“I appreciate that.” I hesitated, then held out the last of my coins - silver, copper, bronze. Not worth a lot - here or there - but artifacts from another world. “As thanks.”

Harris’s signal came through. Ready.

That was it.

I drew Nyssira’s knife. If the enchantments fought me, I’d adjust. Improvise. Break it if I had to.

“On three,” I said.

“One.”

Thae was already coiling.

“Two.”

The ferals tensed along the wall.

“Three.”

Thae launched skyward. The others vaulted the wall in a blur of motion.

I drove the knife down.

There was no resistance. The enchantments parted like they’d been waiting for it. The blade slid through cloak and shirt. Faith erupted outward, a cone of sparks - wild, violent, multicolored - like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Mana flooded the air. It poured into me - cool and overwhelming - like water after a week in the desert.

Then the pain hit. Light filled my vision. My connection to Unity snapped wide open instead of breaking, and suddenly I wasn’t just seeing - I was everywhere. The staff. The cloak. The shirt.

Three more perspectives layered over my own, each one screaming with light, sound, and a burning sensation.

I staggered. I think Mirri shouted my name.

“Start building!” I roared, my voice echoing in my ears from all around me.

The ground answered. Stone speared upward from the ruined park - jagged pillars of schist punching through soil and ash. Mirri and Serah seized the surge of mana - forcing it outward, shaping it - driving the arch forward.

I blinked, tears streaming, eyes burning. The world fractured - four views colliding, overlapping, fighting for dominance. I stumbled between them, trying to focus on what was real.

Halfway across the park, they hit their limit.

My vision swam. I shut my eyes. **** everything else out. The noise dulled - not gone, but quieter. Manageable. And underneath it I felt it.

The ground beneath me. The stone ahead. The weight of boots on the far side. The thunder of my children tearing through the park to the north. The subtle, creeping movement of things beneath the earth.

I locked onto it. The Earthpulse. And I pushed.

Stone erupted again - faster, tighter, surging forward to complete the span.

“Light it up, Lilae!” I shouted. I opened my eyes - and the chaos slammed back in.

Light exploded inside the tunnel. Not fire, but something clean and bright. Miniature suns sailed down the arch, reflections cascading across wet stone until the whole corridor gleamed like midday.

Through the glare, I saw it - three flashes. Lilae answered with three green.

Movement began.

Mirri dragged me back from the mouth of the tunnel as the first civilians surged through - limping, stumbling, helping each other forward. I barely registered the blurry forms that slipped through my sight.

“When the last one’s through - bring it down!” I shouted.

She nodded, but didn’t leave me.

Cool, crisp mana still poured through me. Unity’s Faith burned in my veins - hot and sharp. Stars filled my vision. Sparks tore across my senses from four directions at once.

I tried to stand.

Mirri held me down.

Unity’s Faith flared - so hard and deep I didn’t even need to open myself to my Faith-scape. My soul began to vibrate, a rising tension that felt like it might tear me apart from the inside out.

A low, deep thrumming formed in my core. It rattled my bones. Drove cold straight through my chest. Swallowed everything else as it reached my ears.

A vibration I knew. A vibration I had tried to forget. A vibration I prayed I’d never hear again.