House attack.
Damn words ricocheted through my mind like a bullet, lodging deep and refusing to be dislodged. I was still on the ground, shivering, trembling, as though my body could not decide if it was made of stone or water. My breath came in shallow gasps, my chest rising and falling too quickly, too frantically. It was absurd how I could feel the adrenaline flowing through my veins.
Why would you do this to me?
I couldn't make sense of what he meant.
Suddenly, a loud noise shook the house, and I flinched so violently that it felt like my bones might crack under the force. Gunshots. Explosions. And the unmistakable scream of chaos creeping closer. My ears rang, my skin prickled, and my heart raced, faster and faster, as if it were trying to outrun the unavoidable.
I tried to make sense of it all, but nothing fit. Nothing.
Judas was gone. He had stormed out with the guard, his fury trailing behind him leaving me hollow. It didn't matter that his rage terrified me; now, the emptiness his absence left in its wake was unbearable.
I didn't know what was happening.
The fear. Oh God, the fear.
It clawed its way up my throat, wrapping cold, iron fingers around my voice, choking me into silence. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the gunshots for a moment, but not the thuds-heavy, rapid, coming closer. The house seemed alive, trembling with the echoes of violence, and I was frozen in its heart.
I pressed a trembling hand to my chest as if I could still the erratic beat of my heart, but it only made the ache worse. My ribs felt like a cage, too small, too fragile to contain the storm raging inside me.
I wanted to run after him, to see what was happening, but strangely my legs had given up.
The tears came next, unbidden. I wasn't sobbing-no, it wasn't that kind of crying. It was silent, raw, and endless. I was breaking for the unknown. Thread by thread, emotion by emotion.
I felt it all at once.
The terror of the unknown. The weight of his accusations. The sting of his mistrust. The unbearable, shattering realization that he had left me.
I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened painfully, and my fingers clawed at the carpet beneath me, desperate for something to hold on to. But everything felt distant like I was floating above my own body, watching a girl crumpled on the floor.
Another crash jolted me, louder this time, closer. It shook the floor, sending vibrations through my legs, but I couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but feel.
And then I heard it.
Footsteps.
They were deliberate, heavy, and hurried. They stopped just behind me, and before I could turn, a hand clamped around my arm.
I let out a strangled cry, trying to pull away, but I was no match. My body was too weak, too worn. The grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm, insistent. I didn't fight it. I didn't trust myself to fight.
I let them pull me up, my legs barely holding my weight. My head spun as I stumbled, leaning into whoever had me, my mind too clouded to register who it was.
"Seraphina," a voice said, soft but panicked. Krystina.
Her presence should've comforted me, but it only made the ache in my chest worse. I turned my head sluggishly, and there she was, her dark eyes wide with alarm, her usual composure cracked by fear.
Beside her, Rara hovered, her expression unreadable but her movements decisive. She reached for me, her hands steady where mine trembled.
"We need to move," Krystina muttered.
Move? I couldn't.
How could I move when every part of me felt like it was breaking?
"I…" My voice was barely a whisper. "I can't…"
"You can," Rara said sharply, her hands gripping my shoulders. Her gaze pierced through the fog in my mind, steady and grounding. "You don't have a choice."
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat nearly choking me. My knees wobbled as Krystina and Rara led me toward the door, but all I could feel was the emptiness where Judas had been.
He'd left.
And for the first time, I wondered if I could survive this.
Letting them move me, I stumbled along like a puppet, my limbs heavy, my mind a foggy mess. They led me down the back of the hallway toward the west wing, where shadows seemed thicker, more oppressive. I didn't even know a hidden room existed here.
"Where… where is he?" I croaked, my voice barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat, thundering in my ears.
"Getting Zayne," Krystina said, her breath shallow as she pulled me forward. "We're under attack. I don't know how this is even possible. The security was tight. What's happening, Mama?"
She kept talking, her voice trembling as she explained something about hidden basements and escape routes, but the words barely registered. Under attack. Those two words were the only ones that seemed to matter.
Was it because of that bug- my eyes widened as fragments of memory pieced themselves together-the woman I'd collided with that day. Her face was vague now, blurry in my mind, but the unease she'd left in her wake was still vivid.
Had she done this?
I stumbled, my feet faltering as the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I was framed, wasn't I?
Why would someone do this?
The chaos inside me swirled into a storm of guilt and panic. My breathing hitched, my vision blurred, and I felt like I might collapse all over again.
"Seraphina, listen to me," Krystina said, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts. "There's a hidden basement. We can leave through it. Papa is dealing with the situation. I don't know what's happening there but don't lose hope, we won't let anything happen to you."
Rara turned to me and I saw fear in her dark eyes. "Ralph will meet us at the exit, okay? You and Krystina will go with him, I'll follow with Zayne and others."
I blinked at her, struggling to focus as her words settled into my mind like jagged puzzle pieces. "W-Why…"
The gunshots outside grew louder. And then, the screams-raw and sickening, cutting through the air like blades.
I flinched at the sound, my stomach twisting painfully. "And Judas?" I muttered.
Rara stiffened beside me, her steps faltering just for a moment before she breathed out, steady but strained. "I am not leaving with any of my sons."
Her words should've been a balm, but they weren't. I wanted to argue to stay and see Judas myself. I couldn't trust anyone or anything.
But I nodded to keep her at ease. She nodded and we ran along the hallway. I couldn't feel my legs. And yet, I moved.
Not because I wanted to. Not because I could.
But because I had no other choice.
The corridor stretched before us. The air was so thick I could taste it-metallic and bitter, like blood on my tongue. My heart hammered in a frantic rhythm, a wild beast in my chest, and my breath came in shallow, shaky bursts.
The gunshots outside had faded to a distant roar, but every crack, every echo felt like it could shatter me. Rara's pace quickened, her hand gripping my arm like a lifeline. Kristina was at my side, her knuckles white as she clutched the hem of my sleeve.
And then, we reached the exit.
But there was no Ralph.
Confusion swirled like a storm cloud.
"Where is he?" Rara whispered.
The silence wasn't just silence-it was wrong. It pressed against my ears like the world itself was holding its breath.
"Stay behind me," Rara commanded her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. She quickly pushed me and Krystina behind her in the next moment, her body tense, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows that seemed to press closer.
And then it came-the explosion.
A deafening roar tore through the air. The ground beneath us shook violently, throwing me off balance, and for a moment, the world collapsed.
Sound vanished.
The only thing left was the ringing, that sharp, piercing ding that burrowed into my skull and refused to leave.
I gasped, my body lurching forward, but I couldn't tell if I screamed. My voice was trapped somewhere between my chest and the chaos, lost in the void.
The heat hit next, rolling over me in a wave, blistering and relentless. Smoke filled the air, acrid and choking, curling into my lungs like a predator sinking its teeth into flesh.
I was hauled babackwardsmy body limp as hands grabbed me-Rara's, Krystina's, I didn't know whose. My legs didn't work. My vision blurred, edges smearing together into a mess of colour and shadow.
Through the haze, I saw flashes of movement. The pain came in sharp bursts. My head pounded, my chest ached, and every breath burned like fire. My ears hummed with that relentless ringing, a sinister soundtrack to the carnage unfolding around me.
And then the world tilted.
I felt myself being lifted, strong arms wrapping around me, but I couldn't focus. Everything was slipping away, sliding through my fingers like grains of sand.
I blinked, trying to hold on, but the darkness was creeping closer, its edges frayed and jagged. My thoughts uunravelled tangling into incoherent threads, and the fear clawed at me like a living thing.
I didn't want to close my eyes, but they felt so heavy.
I didn't want to drift, but the pull was too strong.
And as the world faded, I thought of the fire. The smoke. The screams.
And him.
But even his name slipped from my mind as the unconscious void swallowed me whole.
I had nothing left to hold onto, not even his name.