The girl was injured.
Not all the blood covering her was hers—but her leg was definitely damaged.
So I lifted her onto my back.
And moved.
Every step—
waiting for something to lunge out of the dark.
"How long have you been hiding here?" I asked, more to break the silence than anything else.
"I… I don't know," she said quietly. "We came here after midnight… got inside around dawn…"
It was already close to evening.
Which meant—
they'd survived almost the entire day.
And only one possessed had found them.
Either a whole swarm would show up soon—
or this place didn't interest them at all.
I didn't believe in luck.
"First floor left," I said. "We clear it fast, then we leave. Rain or not. Better soaked than dead."
"Mary?"
A man's voice.
Close.
Uncertain.
I froze.
No.
No—
"Steven!" the girl cried.
My eyes shut on their own.
For a second—
I couldn't move.
Then I turned.
Slowly.
And there he was.
Thirty-two.
I knew that.
Red hair.
That crease between his brows—
burned into memory so deep it never faded.
Freckles.
I could count them without looking.
Someone who—
had no right to be here.
Steven.
Youngest of four brothers.
And their sister—
the youngest of all.
Or—
she had been.
A year ago.
Anna.
The name cut deep.
I lowered the girl from my back.
Carefully.
Slow.
Steven was already at her side—checking her, asking questions, voice tight, urgent.
I didn't hear a word.
Blood roared in my ears.
My body wouldn't move.
I never thought—
I'd see anyone from that life again.
And not him.
Not the one I looked up to.
Not the one who taught me how to fight.
Not the one who would've torn the world apart for his little sister.
"Steven…" I forced out.
The name felt чужим.
Wrong.
"Do we know each other?" he asked, frowning. Then glanced at the girl. "Who is this?"
"This guy—he saved me… those things—they—" She broke, words collapsing into sobs.
"Is anyone else here?" I asked.
My voice came out hoarse.
Unfamiliar.
I couldn't let it show.
He didn't know Alan Holivan.
Our lives had never crossed.
Anna was dead.
Buried.
Everything tied to her—
gone.
To him—
I was no one.
A stranger.
But my chest tightened.
Pain.
Sharp.
Unwanted.
And something worse beneath it.
"I was with Misa and Kevin," he said quietly. "They're dead. I hid here before the rain started. Haven't seen anyone else."
"We move," I said.
Still looking at him.
Couldn't stop.
"More of them will come."
"Who are they? You know something?"
"Doesn't matter," I cut in. "Do you know where the exit is?"
He studied me.
Longer this time.
Suspicious.
Then nodded.
We worked out a direction.
Rough.
No one remembered clearly.
Not surprising.
"Can you walk faster?" I snapped as the scavenger stumbled again, glancing over his shoulder like something was already on him.
"My friends… they're still here…"
"And?" I said flatly. "You broke in. This is the result."
"But if there are more of those things—what if they—"
"Then they die," I cut him off. "Like everyone else."
He flinched.
"Where did you last see them?" I added, already turning.
"Thank you! Thank you—"
I didn't answer.
"Mom… I'm scared…"
The girl clung to her mother, trembling.
Even outside, the woman wouldn't let go.
Wind howled.
Cutting.
Hard to move.
But she held on like letting go meant death.
It probably did.
"You're not human… are you?" she asked when we stopped behind a tree so she could catch her breath.
"Walking is what matters," I said.
Movement ahead.
Again.
"Stay here."
My body shifted.
The beast answered instantly.
Rain slammed down.
Heavy.
Hard enough to choke on.
Steven took the injured girl.
I cleared the path.
The possessed didn't care.
No pain.
No cold.
They kept moving—
until their bodies gave out.
Humans didn't.
Demons didn't either.
That word still felt wrong.
Didn't fit.
Didn't belong.
I breathed.
I got tired.
I felt pain.
But the heat inside—
the fire—
said otherwise.
I had to keep it contained.
The camera followed everything.
Every move.
Every second.
If they saw—
better to die.
"Who are you?" Steven asked after I dropped another one.
Another empty shell.
"Does it matter?" I said. "Move."
Time slipped.
Minutes.
Hours.
Hard to tell.
Then—
a clearing.
The exit.
The same place we entered.
The rain stopped instantly.
Two hundred meters.
I looked up.
Night.
Already.
Impossible.
It had been—
four hours.
At most.
A voice echoed across the clearing.
"Twenty minutes remaining."
"What the hell was that?" they both asked.
"Keep moving," I said, glancing back.
Something was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
"They can't pass."
Six Specials stood at the exit.
Blocking it.
"What is this?" I snapped. "They got here by accident!"
"Those who are not initiated cannot learn the truth about us," one of them said coldly.
"What is he talking about?" Steven asked.
"They're not leaving," I said.
My voice dropped.
Hard.
"They die here."
Something inside me snapped.
"No."
The word came out low.
Flat.
"I won't let that happen."
"You will fail the trial. They will still die."
"What kind of logic is that?" I stepped forward. "They're civilians. I'm not leaving them here."
Force gathered.
Strands formed.
Ready.
The injured girl—
And him—
No.
Not my brother.
Not anymore.
But—
still.
He had to live.
"Are you threatening us?" the guard asked calmly.
"I don't want to fight you," I said. "But if you don't move—I will."
"Your employer is waiting," he replied. "If you fail, Silius Clyde will answer for it."
"That has nothing to do with him!"
"Have you forgotten the agreement?"
"How do you—" I cut myself off. "Doesn't matter."
I stepped forward.
Cold.
Certain.
"I made it to the final."
A pause.
Then:
"He already won."
Another step.
"So if I fail now—"
My gaze hardened.
"It changes nothing."