I could barely move.
Everything ached.
My lungs burned with each breath, and the metallic taste of blood sat heavy on my tongue. I was slumped against the cold wall, eyes half-lidded, body refusing to obey—but my mind was still sharp. Still watching.
I saw Lena.
Standing tall, calm… firm.
And I saw Ethan.
Grinning like a madman, a broken devil wearing borrowed strength, with insects crawling from his skin, hissing, clicking, forming unnatural shapes.
He was moving again. No—they were moving.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of insect monsters swirled around him, like a storm condensed into a man.
He lifted his hand.
The insects surged forward.
And at the same time, he charged.
A two-pronged assault. Classic. Efficient. Cruel.
She'd have to divide her focus—handle the monsters or defend against him.
Anyone else would've died right then.
But Lena… she didn't flinch.
