The air was heavy with the scent of ash and blood. The distant crackling of dying flames echoed through the abandoned construction site. Amid the scattered bodies and broken concrete, Alex knelt motionless, his arms wrapped around Elizabeth's lifeless form. The world around him felt distant, numb—like he was caught in a dream that refused to end.
Her face was pale, too pale. The warmth that had always lingered in her sharp words and defiant glances was gone, replaced by a chilling stillness that made Alex's chest ache. His fingers trembled as he brushed a lock of silver-blonde hair from her face, willing her to open her eyes.
But she didn't open them.
A faint sound behind him made Alex tense. Instinctively, the residual power thrumming beneath his skin stirred, ready to lash out. But when he turned his head, it was only Peter.
