**** August 25th | 7.20AM *****

A sickly haze hung over the ruined landscape, choking the sky and burning in Jesse's lungs. Her boots crunched over splintered wood, scorched metal, and the broken fragments of lives that once mattered. The smell of decay clung to the air, turning every breath into a test of will.

In her path, a body lay discarded—its skin pallid, bloodless, a gray husk of what was once a human being.

Jesse paused only a moment before stepping over it, swallowing the nausea clawing at her insides. Keep moving. Keep breathing.

"Anyway," she muttered, her voice unnaturally loud in the stillness. She glanced to Eko beside her. "I don't like this."

Eko took in a shaky breath, squinting through the dense haze. The sun struggled to pierce the gloom, painting the world in a pale, sickly orange that offered no warmth.

"Yeah, well, there's a lot not to like," she replied, her tone hollow. She slumped over a steaming takeaway thermos, her fingers gripping the cool ceramic as if it were the only tether keeping her anchored to reality.

She didn't drink. Instead, she let the heat seep into her frigid hands—a feeble attempt to thaw the bone-deep exhaustion that had sunk in overnight. She'd hardly slept after last night, not since Matthew had woken up screaming at four in the morning. Whatever nightmare he'd endured, it had become hers, too, plaguing her until she could no longer force her eyes shut.

That lingering dread was why she was out here now—trudging across the barren, dead earth with Jesse instead of resting at home, as Matthew had urged before he left. Eko could still hear his voice echoing in her mind, a constant plea to stay safe, to pause and just breathe. But rest was impossible with last night's horrors lurking in every corner of her thoughts, dragging her back into memory before even the first light of dawn.

***** *****

"God, fuck, stop! STOP IT!"

The scream shattered the silence, and Eko bolted awake, her body snapping upright before she could even register the sound fully.  The air vibrated with static, electric and oppressive, squeezing her lungs with each gasp. Her heart pounded, a relentless drum in her ribcage, as she spun toward the source of the chaos.

Matthew convulsed in sheer terror, thrashing wildly against sweat-soaked sheets as if trying to break free from invisible chains. His fingers clawed desperately at the fabric, each movement raw and disjointed. Ragged, broken breaths tore from his chest—every inhale a brutal struggle, every exhale a cry of agony. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, muscles stretched taut as though on the verge of snapping under the relentless strain.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! GET. OFF. ME!"

His head snapped violently to the side, as if struck by invisible, phantom blows, each choked sob slicing through the silence like a razor. She had seen his nightmares too many times before—but this one was different.

"M-Matthew?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling as her throat constricted with both sleep and terror. But he was unreachable—lost in a torment that pulled him into another world, another time entirely.

***** *****

Now, daylight exposed a different horror, one not confined to a single room.

Jesse shifted, drawing Eko back to the present. Eko lifted her head just enough to signal she was listening, though she wouldn't meet Jesse's eyes.

"It's the timing," Jesse went on, each syllable vibrating with frustration. "It's Isis. It's all of it." She swept her arm toward the desolate remains of once-inhabited homes. "What they did to the mages—"

She stopped short, voice cracking on unspoken grief. She didn't need to finish. The carnage spoke for itself. Too many bodies. Too much silence.

Eko's stomach twisted, a cold ache spreading in her gut. She turned her gaze to the thin curls of smoke still coiling upward from scorched rubble. It was easier to look at that faint, flickering legacy of what once was than to face the hollowness in her own chest.

Because somehow, the overwhelming death here seemed easier to stomach than the memory of Matthew's screams. The knowledge that even at home, behind closed doors, safety was no guarantee. Instead, it was just another battlefield—one haunted by nightmares that refused to stay buried.

***** *****

"No—! Fuck, it hurts—!" Matthew's strangled cry came as if from beneath water. "It hurts—it fucking hurts—! No—no, no, please. STOP. STOP IT!"

Eko lunged forward, her heart hammering against her ribs. In a heartbeat, she grasped his wrists before he could flail wildly, her palms pressed firmly against the slick warmth of his skin as she fought to steady his erratic movements.

"Matthew!" she cried, her voice cracking with raw, desperate urgency over the tumult of his thrashing. "Wake up! It's me—Eko! You're safe, Matthew!"

But he remained lost, trapped in his own torment.

"FUCK! DON'T YOU FUCKING COME NEAR ME!" he roared, as if invisible demons were clawing at him. A ragged, gasping sob broke free—a sound so wrenching it shattered Eko's composure. Steeling herself, she climbed over him and straddled his waist, pressing her forehead against his in a vain bid to anchor him with the solidity of her presence. Her hands cradled his face, thumbs tenderly stroking his stubbled jaw.

"Matthew," she pleaded, voice thick with anguish as her thumbs brushed his stubbled jaw, "come back to me, baby. Please."

For a long, unbearable heartbeat, nothing changed. The only response was his desperate, ragged gasps, as if he were drowning in shadows and nightmares he couldn't escape. Helplessness swelled within Eko, but she swallowed it down, determined not to let him vanish completely.

Then, without warning, Matthew screamed again—a sound so piercing and raw it felt as if his very bones were being pried apart. His back arched in agony, and that gut-wrenching cry reverberated through the room.

"LET ME GO! STOP, TOBIAS—MAKE THEM FUCKING STOP! STOP!" he bellowed.

"Matthew!" Eko shouted, her desperation reaching a fever pitch. With a sharp yank, she jerked her hand away and struck him hard, her voice cracking as she bellowed, "WAKE UP!"

In that shattering moment, something within him snapped. His body convulsed in a violent shudder, and a strangled breath finally tore free. His gaze, raw and unfocused just moments before, snapped onto hers. In that fleeting, heart-stopping instant, Eko saw it—the dark nightmare receding. His expression twisted from shock to confusion, then to a dawning fear, before settling into something achingly human.

"Eko?" he rasped, his voice so ragged and fragile it felt like a vise tightening around her heart.

***** *****

Eko swallowed hard, her mind slowly reorienting as she lifted her eyes to the bruised sky. They had all set out just before dawn—when the heavens were still a tangled mess of deep purples and ashen blacks—for this desperate mission. She remembered Toni's knowing look as he watched Matthew, the weight of unspoken worry in his eyes. Just before they dispersed in the air hangar docks, he had pulled her aside, his voice low and earnest.

"I'll watch him," he had explained when she told him it was a really bad night. "I'll talk to him. Just leave it with me, okay?"

She had nodded, worry etching itself into every line of her face, and then she recalled watching as they loaded up and the aircraft ship vanished into the ghostly early light.

Now, turning to face the ragged group—Vause, Teshia, and the others—the plan was painfully clear: comb through the ruins, search for survivors, salvage anything that might still matter. Mya had mentioned in passing that more mages had perished overnight, their wounds too severe, their bodies too broken to hold on. And then came the grim updates from the academies: the virus had begun claiming lives in droves, the fatality count rising with each passing hour.

In the midst of all this chaos, somehow Eko had convinced them she needed to come to the site. They had barely protested, too consumed by the unfolding catastrophe to argue.

Now, standing amid the devastation, every step forward felt like an act of defiance against the relentless darkness. Eko wondered what they had expected. Survivors? A miracle? Or maybe just a single sign—anything—to convince them that this carnage hadn't been for nothing.

She lifted the mug to her lips, grimacing at the lukewarm bitterness that clung stubbornly to her tongue. She kept it close—its comforting warmth the only solace in this moment of unbearable weight. But even as the present pressed in, the edges of her mind began to blur. 

****** *****

Matthew's eyes darted around the room—frantic, unfocused, as if he were still searching for the ghosts in his head. A ragged tremor coursed through his body, and he let out a stifled moan that made Eko's stomach twist, a sound that brought back too many nights of waking him from unspeakable horrors.

Gritting his teeth, Matthew struggled to sit up. Eko remained straddled at his waist, their faces nearly touching as he shuffled upward. His breaths came in shallow, panicked bursts; his eyes, wild with the remnants of terror, flickered like dying embers.

Then, in an instant, his entire body collapsed into her. His forehead pressed against her collarbone, and she felt every tremor ripple through his shaking frame. His fingers curled into her sides—not to pull her closer, but as if desperately trying to hold on for dear life. The ragged force of his breathing, each exhale soaked in raw desperation, reverberated in her ears.

A broken, anguished sob tore from him.

Eko's heart lurched. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his back, her fingers splayed against his sweat-slick skin as if she could shield him from the darkness clawing at his mind. Tears pricked her eyes; she longed to soothe him, to promise that he was safe from Tobias and every nightmare haunting him—but her throat was too tight to form words.

Then something shifted in him. His grip suddenly changed; his fingers dug into her waist—not to pull her closer, but to push her away.

Before she could even gasp, he yanked her off his lap with trembling hands, staggering to the edge of the bed as if he desperately needed every inch of space—every inch of the room felt suffocating. And then, as he attempted to stand, the weight of it all became too much; his body buckled, and he collapsed to his knees.

"Matthew!" Eko cried, lunging forward as her heart pounded in terror and concern.

His knees slammed into the cold floor, followed by his hands scattering across the tile as his breath came in fractured, stuttering gasps. The air around them crackled with raw energy—charged by his panic and untamed power, ready to explode at any moment.

Eko scrambled off the bed, dropping to her knees beside him as she clutched his trembling shoulders. "Matthew... is it your heart—" she began, her voice thick with dread.

"FUCK!" The word burst from him, raw and ragged, laden with shattered anguish. His forehead slammed into the floor as his entire body convulsed, every nerve aflame with unbearable pain.

"Get out of my head..." he choked, the words half-sob, half-growl, as the torment inside him threatened to consume everything.

Then his body seized entirely, and a scream—so piercing and ferocious it seemed to rip through his very soul—erupted from him. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!"

He slammed his fist down again—harder this time—his knuckles colliding with the floor in a dull, jarring thud. A strangled sob escaped him, twisting his fury into something almost feral.

"Stop," he gasped between convulsions. "Stop. STOP!"

His hands flew to his head, fingers clawing desperately at his scalp as if he could rip the haunting memories out by force. Each savage strike against his temples echoed like a frantic drumbeat, his ragged breaths saturating the room with terror and anguish.

Eko reached out instinctively, but the sight of him relentlessly pounding his fists against his own skull rooted her to the spot. She had never seen him like this—his magic crackled in sharp bursts around him, sparks dancing along his skin. His screams were more than pure terror or unbridled fury; they were years of festering torment erupting all at once—a raw, unfiltered plea and protest intertwined in one nightmarish wail.

****** *****

"Oi." The words snapped Eko back from her reverie—Jesse had been talking about the mission, about their next steps. "Alright, spill it."

Jesse slowed, fixing Eko with a look that could peel paint off a wall. "You gonna tell me what's going on, or are you just planning to sulk for the rest of the day?"

Eko startled, blinking as reality slammed back into focus. Her grip tightened around her mug, her fingers pressing into the ceramic as if it were the only tether keeping her from drifting away. "Sorry," she murmured, shifting awkwardly. "Just tired."

Jesse wasn't buying it. With arms crossed and an unyielding glare, she tapped her foot against the debris-covered ground. "Lamest excuse ever. You've been somewhere else since this morning. You wanted to talk—so spill."

For a long moment, Eko hesitated. Her hand drifted to her stomach, as if trying to clutch the weight of something unbearable. Finally, she exhaled, forcing the words out bitterly. "Jesse... how do you know when it's time to draw a line?"

Jesse froze, the question landing like a punch—sharp, unexpected, and cutting too deep. "Eko," she said quietly, softening her tone just a fraction, "draw a line with what?"

Eko's eyes clouded over with the memory, and she bit down on her bottom lip. 

Jesse didn't like the direction this was heading. "Wait... are you talking about you and Matthew? Are you—no, no, no." Jesse stepped back, shock and disbelief etched on her face. "What exactly do you mean by 'drawing a line'? Are you breaking up with him?"

"WHAT!?" Eko snapped, her voice laced with anger and sorrow. "No! Fuck, Jesse—Matthew isn't okay, and your first instinct is to assume I'm breaking up with him?"

Jesse rolled her eyes, pursing her lips as she exhaled sharply. "Oh, come on, Eko. When someone says they're drawing a fucking line, it sounds like you're saying it's over."

Eko's eyes narrowed, her tone biting. "Wrong choice of words, then. That's not what I meant at all." She jabbed a finger between them as if to force the truth home.

"Fine, okay," Jesse retorted, raising her hands in mock surrender. "So, give me some context. Help me understand then this drawing a line comment. What happened between you two after we left last night? Did you get into a fight or... something?"

***** *****

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he roared, eyes blown wide with panic, his entire frame trembling. "I can't—I can't fucking—" His breath hitched, hands clawing at his chest now, like he was trying to rip something out of himself.

Eko's stomach twisted into cold knots, dread coiling inside her like a living thing. This wasn't just panic. It wasn't merely pain. This was something far worse.

Matthew's hands flew to his hair, yanking at the strands as his body convulsed, muscles taut and trembling as if on the brink of shattering. Eko's hands hovered in the gap between them, aching to help yet paralyzed by uncertainty.

"I don't want your hands on me right now!" he snarled, the command not aimed at her but born from a place he couldn't control. His body was wound tight, a spring ready to snap—if she reached for him again, he might either flee or shatter into pieces he'd never recover.

"I can't fucking breathe, Eko!" The words burst from his throat, guttural and raw, each inhale a jagged gasp. His body shook violently, nails digging into his scalp, while sparks of his magic erupted around him, wild and erratic—feeding on his unraveling like a ravenous beast.

"I can't—" he gasped, chest constricting as his voice broke apart. "I can't fucking do this! I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS!"

***** *****

Eko shook her head slowly. "I wish it were just a fight," she whispered, her voice cracking under the crushing weight of her pain. "I wish it was that simple, Jesse—just a dumb fight, you know. I could get over that."

Jesse's playful smirk vanished, replaced by a look of raw, sincere concern. She stepped closer, placing steady hands on Eko's shoulders. "I'm here, Eks," she said softly. "Tell me what's really going on. How can I help?"

Eko tried to steady herself, swallowing hard against the storm of emotions welling up inside. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know how to help him," she admitted, each word shattering like fragile glass. "What if I can't fix this... or him?"

"Hey, Eks," Jesse interrupted softly, her tone gentle yet insistent. Before Eko could brace herself against another wave of despair, Jesse pulled her into a tight, grounding hug.

Eko melted into the embrace, clinging to her coffee cup as if it were a lifeline. And then, with a shuddering exhale, all the pent-up grief burst forth—raw, unfiltered, and utterly honest.

**** ****

"Matthew," she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency, "please, talk to me. Tell me what you need."

In an instant, his head snapped up, and his wild, shattered eyes locked onto hers. "What I need?" he rasped, his voice raw and broken, every word dripping with despair. His eyes—God, his fucking eyes—were wide, unfocused, as if he were staring into a bottomless void of terror. His chest heaved in ragged bursts, his whole body trembling on the brink of collapse.

Then he let out a broken, hollow laugh—a sound so raw and desperate it shattered the quiet between them. "You wanna know what I fucking need, Eko?" he snarled, his voice laced with memories of endless nights. "I need this nightmare to end. I need this to stop. I want to just shut my fucking eyes and never see his goddamn face again!"   

His words came out in staccato bursts as he began to hyperventilate, his chest heaving, shoulders rising and falling erratically. "I-I need to stop feeling his hands all over me, I want to stop living it over and over again and having him fucking touching me. I need to stop waking up reeking of his breath—as if he's still here, as if he never fucking left!" His voice cracked into a desperate plea. "Do you have any idea what it's like? to let someone have that much space in your head?"

He rocked back on his knees, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Each ragged breath that escaped was a brutal reminder of the torment he couldn't shake. His entire body shook uncontrollably, muscles quivering as cold sweat trickled down his face. When Eko reached out, her fingertips lightly grazing his trembling arm, he flinched violently, pulling away as if burned by the touch—a physical reaction to the agony that still pulsed through him.

"Don't," he snapped, his voice cracking with an unbearable sorrow as he barely managed to meet her gaze. "I can't." His words came out in broken, halting sobs. "I just... I can't... do this." In a frantic, pained motion, his hands shot up to his hair, yanking at the strands as though he could tear the ghost from his mind.

Matthew's entire body convulsed, every muscle rigid and trembling under a pain that threatened to rip him apart from the inside. Eko reached out once more, but her hand froze mid-air, paralyzed by the sight of his unraveling. He was waging a desperate, silent war against demons only he could see.

"He's still here, Eko!" he cried out, his voice shattering into broken fragments as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. His head jerked towards her, eyes wide with a silent, desperate terror. "I can feel him breathing down my neck. I can hear him... moaning... And I—I—"

Then, his body buckled completely; his forehead slammed hard against the cold, unforgiving floor. A raw, guttural scream tore from him—a chaotic collision of sobs and fury that was nothing like the controlled rage of battle. It was self-destruction turned inward, a torment so deep and violent it seemed to consume him entirely.

His scream shattered the silence, and his forehead ground against the floor with such force that Eko feared his skin might split open. His hands clawed desperately at his skull, as if trying to rip the anguish from his very soul, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

**** ****

Jesse held Eko tightly, a steadfast anchor in the chaos, letting her tears fall freely for a moment. When she finally pulled back, Jesse cradled Eko's flushed cheeks, gently wiping away the damp streaks with her thumbs. Her eyes, fierce and compassionate, met Eko's as she spoke in a voice both soft and resolute:

"Talk to me."

Eko's whisper was raw and trembling, "He's not okay. He's just not okay." The words, barely audible yet heavy as lead, hit like a sledgehammer. "It's so much worse than before..."

Her breaths came in uneven, shallow bursts—as if the crushing weight in her chest was squeezing every ounce of hope from her. It felt like she was drowning under the relentless burden of his pain, haunted by his nightmares, tormented by ghosts that refused to vanish.

"Eko, give me some context. Come on, babe," Jesse urged, her tone a blend of insistence and care.

"His nightmares, Jesse! Tobias, the orphanages—everything!" Eko's voice cracked, words spilling out in a desperate rush that broke her apart even as she spoke. Each syllable felt like a heavy stone pressing down on her, an unbearable weight she could no longer contain. She wasn't just asking for help; she was begging someone to understand the depth of the torment, to share the unbearable load of his suffering. "You have to know how bad it is, and— and...." Her breath hitched, and the words shattered into frantic fragments before she could catch them.

***** ****

"I..." Matthew's voice faltered, rasping against her shirt. "I can't be with you," he choked out, each word slicing through her like shards of broken glass. "I don't know how to make it stop anymore, Eko. I—I can't do this... a relationship, a marriage... not when I'm drowning in my nightmares and this relentless fucking pain. You deserve more than this."

"W-what?" Eko pulled back, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes were wide with alarm, shimmering with heartbreak. "No!" She shook her head, fierce and defiant. "No. No, no, no. Baby, no. No!"

"Yes," he whispered as his bounced between her own. 

"Matthew, you are literally beyond your coping point at the moment. You have barely slept this entire month, and that is so, so dangerous." Her words tumbled out, breathless yet forceful, each one a lifeline she refused to let him ignore. "You know how your mind spirals when you're burnt out like this. You know how you get!"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he let out a ragged, shuddering breath. "I'm always going to be like this," he whispered, his voice so broken it nearly shattered her. "It's... too far-rooted in who I am."

With a pained effort, he rose from his knees. Eko, still on the floor, reached out and clutched his hand. He tried to pull away, but her grip was unyielding.

He looked at her, something flickering in his eyes—hopelessness, maybe. The purple shadows beneath his eyes were enough to prove her right that he wasn't thinking clearly.

"You swore to me—pinky promised, remember?" Eko shouted, her voice cracking under a torrent of raw emotion. "When it all got this dark, you swore—fucking pinky promised—that you'd do something, anything, to stop yourself from sinking deeper into this hellhole. You pinky swore to me, Matthew! You liar! You fucking liar!"

His whole body trembled as her words cut deep, each syllable a jagged shard of guilt. Tears pooled in his eyes, and shame etched deep furrows across his face as he averted his gaze.

Eko pulled him closer, her hold desperate and fierce. "Don't do this, Matthew! Please—I'm begging you— Please, don't run."

He lowered his gaze, his voice a pained murmur, "You didn't sign up for this." The words fell like a reluctant confession.

"I signed up to love you," she pleaded, her voice breaking with a mix of fury and heartbreak as she tightened her grip on him. "I signed up to be by your side for the rest of our lives, baby, please...you can't keep running from this—you can't keep turning your back on it. I know you're scared, I know you're fucking terrified of letting it all out, but you can't keep doing this. You physically cannot keep going the way you are!"

With a shuddering sigh, Matthew sank back to his knees, his trembling hands cradling her face as if trying to etch every detail into his memory. He ran his fingers slowly along her cheek, absorbing her warmth, fully aware that this moment would mark the end of everything. "This is going to tear us apart," he whispered, his voice breaking with resignation. "Once you know everything—the truth—you'll never see me the same way. You'll never want to build a life or raise a child with someone like me. I know how much you can take."

Eko shook her head, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks as her voice rose with fierce, raw determination. Grabbing his hand, she pressed it firmly against her pounding heart and demanded, "Why don't you let me decide how much I can take, huh?"

"And I'll become a burden your forced to carry," he murmured, shaking his head as he sank into her embrace. Even as the weight of his body threatened to overwhelm her, Eko held him close, refusing to let him go—despite the fact that she herself was barely holding together.

****** ****

"I know how bad it is," Jesse whispered, echoing Eko's earlier words.

"Jesse! I'm supposed to help! That's what you do when you love someone!" Eko's voice cracked—raw, unsteady—each syllable a desperate attempt to make reality bend to her will. "I'm his wife—I vowed to keep him safe, to protect him!"

But then, the certainty in her voice faltered, her breath shuddering as a sob clawed its way up her throat. "But I'm failing him—" She choked on the words, pressing the heel of her palm against her temple, as if she could physically stop the downward spiral, force her mind to make sense of the helplessness gnawing at her. "I feel so fucking useless!"

The realization hit her with crushing finality—a weight so suffocating it nearly stole the air from her lungs. She was supposed to be able to fix this—to ease his pain, to pull him back from the brink like he had done for her so many times before. But she couldn't. She wasn't enough. And for the first time, that truth burned hotter than anything else.

Jesse's jaw clenched, a flicker of something unreadable and reluctant darkening her eyes. "August is always bad for us," she admitted, her voice steady despite the slight tremor that Eko caught at the edges. "Just... he's usually not here for it."

Eko stilled. Not here for it? The phrase sent a slow, creeping chill down her spine. Her breath hitched, her heart hammering as her mind scrambled to understand. Her eyes snapped up, wide and glassy, locking onto Jesse's with a dangerous intensity.

"What?" she whispered, the single word laden with a desperate need for clarity. "What do you mean?"

Jesse hesitated—just for a heartbeat—a blink-and-you-miss-it moment as her gaze flickered away, as if bracing herself for the truth.

Then she looked back, her stare firm and unyielding. "He always leaves around this time," she said, her tone heavier, more deliberate. "Every year. He just disappears. We never hear from him—he goes AWOL—and Toni is the one who ends up looking after him."

The words hit Eko like a sledgehammer, ringing in her head like a blaring alarm—disorienting, impossible to ignore.

Jesse let the weight of her revelation settle, inhaling sharply as if to steady herself, barely containing a storm of frustration, fear, and something far darker clawing its way up her throat. Her hands curled into fists.

"I saw it happen again, Eko," she continued, her voice now quieter but laced with heavy dread and guilt. "He started slipping, and I told Toni. Toni told me to keep an eye on him."

Jesse paused, and that brief silence was enough for Eko to know what was coming next—a truth she dreaded.

"Why do you think Toni came back?" Jesse's voice sharpened, frustration cutting through the thick air like a blade. "It's not because of the rehab. It's for Matthew." The words landed like a hammer, unyielding and solid. "Because Toni knows where this path leads."

Eko exhaled sharply, shaking her head, her jaw tightening as if uttering it aloud made the pain even worse. "And what makes it worse?" she pressed, her voice low but urgent. "This time, Matthew can't leave. He can't run. He can't just disappear for weeks, go off the grid, pretend life isn't happening. Not this year," Jesse murmured, shaking her head. "Not with Allegiant. Not with his responsibilities."

Jesse met Eko's gaze, something raw flickering in her eyes. "And no, before you ask, I don't know how bad he really gets when no one else is watching."

"I don't think you get how bad it actually is," Eko replied, her eyes bouncing between Jesse's and her trembling bottom lip. "Jesse it is worse than you think—and I don't believe whatever Matthew and Toni do out there actually helps him.  It's not healing him—it's just putting a bandage over a wound that's already bursting open. You can't bury that kind of pain forever."

"Eko, you don't know what you're talking about—"

"I don't know!?" Eko spat, her voice raw with desperation and fury. "You don't know what it's like, Jesse—you aren't there, listening to him scream every fucking night. You don't know what it's like to hear him beg, to listen to him break down, pleading for it all to stop!" She paused, her eyes blazing with unshed tears. "This isn't just about August anymore. It's not one bad month—he's completely falling apart! What Tobias did to him... it's fucked him up for good!"

Her words exploded in jagged, ragged bursts as she fought for breath, and then a crushing wave of panic slammed over her—sudden, brutal, leaving her trembling. "And now," she said, pointing to the ruined world around her, "he wants to break up with me, Jesse! LIKE I CAN'T HANDLE IT, LIKE I'M NOT HIS FUCKING WIFE!"

The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. Her stomach churned violently, and a relentless, harsh wave of nausea hit her. Before she could even process it, her body buckled, and her breath was choked away as she gagged, overcome by the mounting horror.

"Eko?!" Jesse's voice echoed distantly, distorted by the pounding in Eko's head. Eko's fingers dug into the fabric of her shirt, clinging desperately as if they could hold back the collapse.

"Shit—hey, babe, breathe. You told me you were fine!" Jesse's voice was sharp, laced with creeping fear, as she reached out to steady Eko.

Eko managed to lift a trembling hand in a weak plea for her to wait—to catch her breath for just a moment. But her body betrayed her; it still shook, her breaths uneven and shallow as the grip of sickness slowly eased, leaving her lightheaded and drained.

"Seriously," Eko rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her face pale and drawn. "This virus just needs to fuck off already."

Jesse's expression hardened, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "I know, babes. You don't look really bad at the moment," she snapped. "Whatever this is, it's wrecking you."

"Yeah," she muttered, pressing her hands to her knees as she struggled to steady herself. Her body felt weak—as if her bones had been hollowed out and barely held her together.

"Come on, Eks. You need to go home," Jesse urged, her tone both insistent and protective.

Eko hesitated, leaning back slightly as she searched Jesse's face for reassurance, for understanding—maybe even permission to voice the terror gnawing at her heart.

Finally, in a whisper laced with vulnerability, she said, "Jesse... I'm really worried about him. He's not thinking straight... he's not."

Jesse met her eyes, and for a long, heavy moment, nothing but raw honesty passed between them. "I am too, Eko," she said softly, then added cautiously, "and I really think something's pushing him over the edge this time—more than ever before. I think... I know what it is."

Eko swallowed hard, the weight of Jesse's words twisting in her stomach. "Tell me, what is it?" she asked.

"I need you to be completely honest with me—" Jesse began.

"Of course," Eko murmured, nodding. "Anything to help him."

Jesse hesitated for a moment, studying Eko as if weighing whether to say it at all. Then, with a steadying breath, she pressed forward.

"Are you... you're not pregnant, are you? I mean, you're not that stupid. You know better. Matthew knows better. In the middle of this war? you both wouldn't do something like that right, that this, you both wouldn't risk something like that, right?" She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, as if to underline her point. "This is the  virus messing with you, right?"

Eko blinked, caught off guard. "P-pregnant?" she stammered, her voice trembling. "Why would you even ask that? No—I've got the implant. It's just the virus messing with me. Why would you think—"

Jesse folded her arms across her chest, her expression unreadable but firm. "Because I came across the house plans the other night while Matthew was asleep at his desk," she said carefully, watching Eko's reaction. "And someone—who I'm guessing wasn't the architect—labeled one of the rooms as a nursery."

The silence between them stretched, thick with something heavier than words.

Eko cleared her throat. "Okay, so we labeled a room 'nursery.' There's nothing wrong with that; it's for the future. People plan for the future all the time."

Jesse's gaze sharpened. "My second clue is—you, Eko. You're sick, distracted, always holding your stomach. I don't think it's the virus. I've seen Mya go through her pregnancy, and this... this is like that." 

Eko's jaw tightened as she let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, first—I'm not pregnant. Second, it's the same virus that's been knocking everyone down. And third, why on earth would you think a baby is triggering him? Is that really what you're saying?"

Jesse's expression hardened, but her voice remained soft and unwavering. "Why wouldn't it? This isn't like ordering dinner, Eko. We're talking about a kid— that is an enormous responsibility."

Something hot and raw ignited inside Eko at Jesse's words—a fierce, protective surge. "No fucking shit, it's a kid, Jesse!" Her voice rose, sharp and defiant, as if she were fighting to prove something. "But it's a kid he wants. A kid we both want. A kid we're both going to try to have. A kid that's wanted, Jesse!"

Jesse went silent for a moment, blinking as she processed Eko's intensity. "Repeat that. What did you say?"

Eko's heartbeat quickened, the silence between them growing deafening. Her fingers curled around the fabric of her jacket as she forced herself to speak. "I said, it's a kid that's wanted. A kid... a baby, Jesse, that we both want so much."

Jesse's jaw dropped, and she pulled back slightly, staring at Eko as if she'd just announced she was moving to another planet. "You're serious? Eko? You're actually fucking serious?"

Eko nodded, her breath unsteady but determined. "Yeah. I am. We both are."

Jesse's eyes flashed a mix of shock and something deeper—raw concern edged with frustration. "Seriously? You two can't be that fucking stupid," she said, exhaling harshly as if trying to expel the disbelief.

"Why are you being like this?" Eko demanded, stepping back.

"Eko..." Jesse began, her tone thick with incredulity. "I know you love each other, but it hasn't even been a year since you got together. Last month was the anniversary of the palace attack, and now mages are dying left and right. And you're seriously talking about bringing a baby into this mess?"

Eko's brows furrowed, her pulse pounding in her ears. "So?" she replied curtly.

Jesse threw her hands up in exasperation. "So? SO?! You just said it yourself—Matthew's spiraling out of control! You're here, worried sick about him, and now you're thinking about starting a family? What the fuck am I supposed to say? I am not okay with this!"

Eko stiffened, her fingers clenching around the edge of her jacket. "I don't give a fuck if you're not okay with it. This isn't your decision to make," she shot back, her voice trembling between anger and vulnerability. "Yes, it sounds crazy, but Jesse—while we're caught up in all of this, we've put our lives on hold! Why can't we have a chance at something normal?"

Jesse's eyes flashed with frustration. "Because you two can't be this stupid right now! We're at fucking war, and you act like planning a family is some kind of easy thing to do—raising a kid in this world is one of the cruelest choices either of you could make!"

"Jesus, Jesse!" Eko's voice trembled, teetering on the edge of losing control. "Cruel!? How can two people who love each other and want a family be cruel? Matthew wants this, and so do I. We want to build a life together—a family!"

For a split second, Jesse's face crumpled as she brushed a hand across her cheek. "I just—fuck, Eko. Why can't you see that this is one of the reasons he's spiraling out of control? Because you're so fixated on this family idea—it's driving him over the edge!"

Eko froze, her voice snapping, "What? No! What do you mean? The baby thing—no?" Uncertainty and fear laced her words. "No, no, no! He wants this! You don't know what you're talking about here!"

Jesse's eyes darkened, and the raw seriousness in her tone replaced her anger. "For fuck's sake, Eko! We grew up in a system that chewed us up and spat us out. Tobias was just one nightmare among many. Jesus, I bet he hasn't even told you about the cartel rings and all the other shit we went through!"

"That they sold kids—I know that!" Eko interrupted, her disbelief rising. "He's told me that!"

"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK HE AND I ENDED UP?!" Jesse screamed, her voice ripping through the air. In that instant, Eko's world tilted, as if the very wind had been knocked from her lungs.

"W-what?" Eko managed, her whisper trembling with shock and raw pain.

The silence was crippling.

"W-where you both ended up?" Eko repeated, her voice shaking as she struggled to process the words. "When? How?"

"N-nothing, forget it," Jesse stammered, shaking her head as her hands clenched at her sides—as if bracing against a tidal wave of brutal truth.

"No, Jesse?" Eko stepped forward cautiously, watching as Jesse recoiled just like Matthew does when cornered. "Hey, hey, hey," Eko's tone shifted suddenly, as if the light of her best friend's past had come into focus. "You both... we're in that cartel ring?"

"Forget it," came the curt reply.

"Jesse?" Eko's voice faltered as she tried to grasp the enormity of the revelation. On instinct, she extended both hands in a gentle, pleading gesture, her simmering anger barely contained. "Jesse..."

"Leave it!" Jesse snapped, her voice breaking apart with raw, seething anger. "After everything we've been through—all that endless violence, all that abuse—nobody in their right fucking mind even dares to think about starting a family! And now, you're telling me you want to bring a fucking child into this? Into this mess? You say you know Matthew, but you have no clue! No fucking idea what you're really asking of him! Because he's drowning in all this shit, and you're out here playing house like none of it matters!"

At that, Eko's heart shattered. She saw Jesse's eyes widen, her breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps as hyperventilation took hold. Without thinking, Eko rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Jesse. But even as she held her close, she could feel Jesse struggling to break free—so Eko tightened her embrace even harder.

"Let me go!" Jesse screamed, her voice cracking as she fought to break free.

"No," Eko protested, her tone trembling with desperation and sorrow. "I'm not letting you go—not now." In that fraught moment, Eko felt Jesse draw a long, ragged breath, and they remained locked in a painful, heavy silence. Eko's fingers gently combed through Jesse's ponytail, each soft stroke a silent plea for comfort as another slow, labored breath filled the void between them.

After a moment, a quiet sniffle escaped Jesse, and she pulled back, brushing away the lingering tears as she shook her head in resignation. Eko cupped Jesse's face, her own eyes puffy and red with raw emotion, and in that vulnerable expression, Eko saw echoes of Matthew's broken gaze from hours before—like the light had vanished, leaving them both stranded in an endless, suffocating darkness without a lifeline.

Before Eko could utter another word, a blinding pulse of red light flared from the wristbands strapped to their skin. The Defqon One alert erupted—a piercing wail that shattered the stillness and sliced through the quiet like a razor. The air itself shifted, charged with an unmistakable warning: imminent attack.

"Jesse!" Eko's gasp tore from her throat, panic lacing her voice as her trembling fingers frantically clawed at the band. Her stomach twisted in pain as the alarm surged through her.

In an instant, the world tilted violently, a sickening surge of adrenaline crashing into her weak, fragile body. Her vision blurred at the edges, and her pulse hammered in her ears, as if the very ground beneath her was about to give way.

"What... what does that sound mean?" she managed, her voice barely a whisper before another wave of dizziness slammed into her, leaving her teetering between exhaustion and fear.

Jesse's eyes snapped to hers, and in that instant, she knew everything had changed. With a steely resolve cutting through the chaos, she said, "Isadora's under attack."

Before Eko could fully process the words, a distant boom cracked the sky. The sound rumbled through the earth beneath them, a bone-deep vibration that sent dust skittering across the ruined ground. Another explosion followed. Then another. The skyline of Isadora flickered with bursts of fire and smoke, the destruction unfolding like a nightmare before their eyes.

"Get to Isadora, now!" Richie's voice thundered from the distance, raw with urgency.

Eko stood frozen, breath ragged, heart hammering wildly against her ribs. The nausea, the exhaustion—it all faded into the background, drowned by the sheer terror coiling in her gut. The world around her blurred at the edges, her mind torn between the betrayal of her own body and the unraveling chaos ahead.

Then— Mya's powers snapped in the distance. A sharp, visceral pull, like a tether yanked too hard, vibrating through the air like a warning bell. Eko's eyes locked on her silhouette just as it was swallowed by the thick fog and rising smoke. Richie followed, his voice raw with urgency before fading into the chaos. Teshia and Vause had already vanished, their movements swift and magnetic, darting toward the fray.

Were they running toward the fight or trying to escape it?

Before she could fully process what was happening, Jesse's hands were on her, gripping her shoulders, fierce and unyielding. "Eko, listen to me!" Jesse's voice was raw, her urgency edged with something dangerously close to panic. "Go back to base. Now. Don't argue. Don't fight me on this. Just go!"

Eko barely had time to react before Jesse was gone, swallowed whole by the thick, suffocating haze.

And just like that— Eko was alone.

The emptiness hit her like a crushing wave, pressing against her ribs, her lungs, her throat. The battlefield stretched out before her, vast and eerily silent, the distant explosions and echoing screams blending into a hollow, numbing static. Her wristband pulsed violently, the red emergency signal flashing like a second heartbeat, pounding against her skin, demanding action.

Then— the air cracked.

A deep, violent shudder ripped through her bones, and she felt it. Not just in her mind—in her very soul. A pulse of raw, unfiltered power surged through her veins, an energy so volatile, so consuming, it nearly stole her breath.

Matthew.

His magic flared through her like wildfire—angry, untamed, violent. It surged through her bloodstream, wrapping around her heart, beating inside her like it was his own.

"No, no, no." The words tumbled from her lips, barely a whisper, but the weight of them felt infinite. She could feel his heartbeat, could feel the chaos clawing through him like a living, breathing thing. His pain. His rage. His fear.

Something was happening to him. Something was wrong.

She had to get to him. She had to move. Now.

Eko's fingers curled into fists, her magic thrumming to life, wild and electric, responding to her desperation. It wrapped itself around her like armor, fierce and protective, the only thing keeping her tethered as everything else threatened to slip away.

With one final, ragged breath, Eko let go.

The power surged— and in a heartbeat, she vanished into the ether.

**** 8.15 AM *****

The cries of the Elders tore through the air, jagged and raw, shattering the eerie silence that had once cloaked their sanctuary. Eric stumbled through the wreckage, the world around him unraveling faster than his mind could comprehend. The attack had been brutal, a coordinated strike so devastating it had even caught the Elders off guard—their illusions of power and safety crumbling like sand beneath a storm.

Eric was running. Not just from the destruction, but from the weight of betrayal—from the very Elders who had once sworn to protect their own, now standing beside the Sorcerer and Sorceress, reveling in the downfall of their kind.

His feet pounded against the marble floors, slick with blood. He staggered past the fallen—elders, friends, allies—lifeless bodies draped over broken columns and shattered relics of a past that no longer held meaning. The white plains of their sacred halls were stained deep crimson, a chilling reminder that their sanctuary had become a graveyard.

Then—a flicker of movement.

Eric twisted sharply, catching sight of a familiar face. Mina. She emerged from the shadows, breath ragged, eyes wide with terror. But she didn't cower. She reached for him, gripping his arm like a lifeline. Together, they ran, dodging debris, weaving through the ruins of a world that was dying beneath their feet.

And then—they saw it.

At the heart of the desecrated grand hall, a figure loomed, radiating darkness, a force so oppressive it felt like the air itself was turning against them.

The Beast.

At its feet, the lifeless forms of Elders lay discarded like broken dolls, their robes soaked in red. Power hummed off its form, thick and suffocating, a presence that made the very ground tremble beneath them.

Eric's pulse hammered in his ears. His breath came fast, uneven. This wasn't just an attack. This was an execution.

"You will not aid the Queen this time," the Beast drawled, its voice a slow, deliberate blade cutting through the carnage. "You've already done enough damage with what you taught her. in the last war we faced off against one another."

Eric's stomach turned. The Queen. The name alone sent his mind into chaos, but before he could speak, a small group of Elders appeared, forming a defensive line—though their numbers were pitifully few, their determination burned like embers in the dark.

"W-what war?" Eric stammered, his voice hoarse. "Last time? Who are you?"

The Beast sneered, its black eyes gleaming with something ancient, something insatiable. "The war you helped fuel, you blind, arrogant fools." Its voice was thick with contempt. "The Princess lives. And she holds the crystal I need. With her blood, I will secure our survival."

Mina's breath hitched beside him. "Our survival?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling but defiant. "You're the ones trying to kill us!"

The Beast tilted its head, its expression almost amused as it regarded them, its presence pulsing with a dark, violent energy. The ground beneath them trembled, deep fractures splitting through the ancient stone as if the very earth recoiled from its presence.

Eric held his ground, ignoring the sharp sting of dust and debris cutting into his skin. "You're wrong," he said, his voice edged with defiance. "The Queen is dead. And so is the Princess. There are no crystals here. What you're searching for doesn't exist."

A slow, cruel laugh slithered from the Beast's lips. "Do you truly believe I would take your word for it?" its voice was laced with mockery. Its gaze bore into him, deep and calculating, as though peeling back his mind layer by layer. "Your loyalty to her remains as fierce as the day you taught her to weave barriers around the palace. But that does not matter." The Beast exhaled, its power surging with every syllable. "Her blood is the key—to peace across all timelines."

Eric's stomach twisted. "Timelines?" The word tasted foreign on his tongue, his mind scrambling to process its weight. "You're... not from here?"

The Beast's lips curled into a cold, satisfied smirk. "Perceptive," it mused. "You are not as dumb as your counterparts."

But before Eric could speak, before he could demand answers, the Beast's attention snapped away.

Eric felt it before he saw it.

A sudden surge of power in the distance—a ripple so potent, so familiar, it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. Eko. Her magic flared in a violent pulse, raw and uncontained, like a beacon cutting through the chaos.

The Beast noticed, too.

"Stay where you are," it ordered, its voice twisting through the air with unnatural authority. "Unless you wish to witness the final extinction of your kind."

And then—the beast was gone. The darkness folded in on itself, swallowing the creature whole, leaving behind only the lingering echo of its power.

A heavy silence settled over the devastation.

Eric's breath came fast and uneven, his pulse hammering at the base of his throat. He turned sharply to Mina, his voice unsteady but urgent. "We need to warn the warriors." He swallowed hard, fighting down the rising panic clawing at his chest. "They're going after Eko."

Mina's eyes widened, unblinking. "Why? Where are you going?" she called after him, barely able to keep pace.

Eric's gaze swept over the battlefield—the lifeless bodies of fallen allies, the wounded gasping for each breath, the ruins of what was once a sanctuary now reduced to a graveyard of shattered lives. The truth he had buried for over a year burned in his chest, its weight nearly unbearable. He should have told them sooner. He should have said something when it mattered.

"Eric!" Mina snapped.

"I need to find Matthew. He needs to know!" Eric insisted, his voice cracking with urgency.

"Know what?" Mina asked, utterly confused.

"Sera—she's alive. And he's going after her!" Eric's chest tightened with guilt. He had kept Sera's legacy hidden, convinced that protecting the Queen's secret was for the greater good. But now that very secret had ignited the spark of war.

With the crushing weight of his silence threatening to engulf him, Eric vanished into the ether—a desperate bid to protect the future queen of two worlds.