Page 285 of Interion

That was the only thought in my mind when I woke to the sound of the vital signs monitor beeping in the room. Lying in the hospital bed, I looked at the bandaged stump just below my shoulder. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes in silent grief as I realized I was about to graduate from medical school—and I'd lost an arm.

The situation was so inconceivable that I could barely move or tear my eyes from the bandages. It was as if this were some terrible nightmare or a horrific illusion. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears, racing in time with the monitor, while my stomach churned strangely.

Immediately, memories crashed over me like an avalanche, burying me in fear and despair. I squeezed my eyes shut, reliving the nightmare that was actually a memory blocked from my subconscious. The more I thought about Serguei's memory block, the more it made sense. It had also blocked my second power somehow—a power that surfaced when I found the courage to face my fear.

I felt more tears streaming down and let them fall, helpless against the pain. Questions circled my mind like a pack of hungry wolves, and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into doubt. Why hadn't Serguei told me the truth about Lagherta's death? If he knew about the danger lurking in the drutes forest, why hadn't he warned us?

Between doubts and tears, my stomach churned again. My mind was foggy, yet all my senses felt strange and hyperalert. Everything was deeply wrong, especially my insignificant existence. I figured it must be my body's reaction to the trauma I'd witnessed, or maybe an overload of the medications and anesthetics from surgery.

I sat up with difficulty and heard hurried footsteps outside, along with the murmur of anxious, frightened voices. The noise intensified the strange sensation, and as soon as I heard footsteps in the corridor, I knew something was wrong in the hospital. I heard a nurse screaming. That kind of rush and urgency only happened when a patient was dying—but who could be important enough to cause such chaos?

I feared it was one of my friends—they'd all been in the test. Breno had made it past the barrier, but how could I know if Hiro or Aish were okay and alive? Anguish born of uncertainty pierced my chest. I knew I shouldn't try to get up, but the fear of losing someone I loved drove me out of bed. I rose with difficulty, grabbing the cart with the equipment connected to my body. The shock of having to use only one hand nearly made me falter, but I pressed on. I pushed it toward the door and leaned on its frame like a walker. I felt the cuts pull at my back and arm, but I moved slowly to avoid tearing them. With difficulty, I braced myself against the wall and opened the door to the corridor. The hallway was empty—only one last nurse was running toward the stairs.

“What's happening?” My voice came out hoarse and fragile.

She stopped and looked at me, confused, then resumed running and shouted:

“Go back to your bed! The patient in the basement is dying, but the containment barrier is being attacked from the inside.”

My eyes narrowed. The barrier was being attacked from the inside? How was that possible if he was dying? A chill ran through me and my legs faltered. I was still so weak—my body wasn't in any condition to walk or stand for long. When the nurse disappeared down the stairs, I closed the door and made my way back to the bed with the cart's help, the world spinning around me. But halfway there, I heard screams from the lower floors, then a blast of power made the windows rattle. I froze, so shocked I couldn't even move my eyes, paralyzed with fear.

“This has to be a joke.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

The crash could only mean the containment barrier had broken, and whatever could break through a barrier like that had to be incredibly strong. I looked around. Maybe it was fear, or maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, but the room felt colder. Outside, the hallway darkened, and my stomach dropped, dragging my heart down with it.

I turned slowly toward the door. Then, like something out of a horror movie, I heard the click of an archemic globe going out. I'd never forget that sound—the light being snuffed out.

It was coming for me. I knew he'd return. When we first met, I knew he'd let me go. For some reason, he hadn't wanted to take me that day—because if he had, I wouldn't have stood a chance. And now he was back to finish the job.

Another globe clicked.

Only the globe in front of my door remained. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my hand was so sweaty it felt sticky.

Click.

Through the door's glass, I saw nothing but darkness in the hallway. There was no other way out—I'd have to go through it. How could I get past the thing already waiting for me out there? The door opened slowly with an agonizing creak. I felt the presence approaching, cold as a piece of the Abyss itself.

Before the door finished opening, the archemic globe above me went out.

In total darkness, I stumbled to the side of the room, groping blindly. Some of my stitches tore open, and I felt the gown grow damp. I stepped in the opposite direction, but my legs gave out and I dropped to my knees. Terrified, I dragged myself to the wall and pressed my injured back against it. I stared into the darkness, and there, in the depths of the shadows, a pair of eyes stared back. Just that golden, incandescent glow against the heavy black.

“No,” I whispered in panic. “Don't come near me.”

I screamed in desperation. This couldn't be happening—it had to be another nightmare. Mixed with the murmurs drifting through the hospital, I heard the machines of some dying patient beeping frantically. The thing dragged itself across the floor, closer and closer. When it got close enough, a hand closed around my ankle and yanked me to the floor with inhuman strength. All my stitches tore open, and I screamed in pain.

“Let me go!”

I kicked and thrashed, but the presence was stronger. It rose over me, pinning me to the floor. It was cold and radiated raw power that made my heart race from the sheer weight of its aura alone. An aura I'd only felt in dreams.

“No!” I screamed, struggling against the cold hands, slipping in my own blood.

The presence crushed me against the damp floor, seeming pleased—like a cat that had cornered a mouse.

“Yesss!” it hissed.

The aura clung to my body as if trying to merge with me. The presence covered my skin like a mantle of power. As I struggled, the energy began forcing its way inside. It pierced my muscles and settled over my bones, molding itself to my form. I feared my flesh would tear—it was like being invaded by something hundreds of times larger than me.

“Yesss!” it repeated one last time. Its voice was glorious, immortal, and powerful.