Page 189 of The Ascended
"Yeah," I admitted. "Yeah, I am."
Kyren and I each took one of our companions by the wrist and pushed forward, seeking any path that might lead to safety.
"There!" Kyren pointed toward a massive doorway ahead, smoke billowing from it in thick plumes. "That has to be an exit."
We were nearly there when a desperate cry stopped us.
"Help! Please, someone help me!"
A contestant I vaguely recognized stood before a woman pinned beneath a fallen beam, her hand outstretched. Her face was a mask of pain and terror.
“She’s another illusion,” Kyren murmured.
"Don't worry, I'll save you," the man sobbed, straining against the beam. He spotted us approaching and his expression lit up. "Help me lift this! She's dying!"
Kyren released Marx's arm and lunged forward, but not to help with the beam. Instead, he grabbed the contestant by his shirt and yanked him backward just as another section of ceiling crashed down, missing them by inches.
"Let go of me!" the man howled, thrashing against Kyren's hold. "She needs me!"
"It's not real," Kyren insisted, struggling to maintain his grip on the larger man. "She's an illusion."
"We need to go," I urged, my eyes fixed on the exit ahead, beyond which I could see nothing but stars and clouds. "Now!"
But Kyren wouldn't relent. "I'm not leaving him," he grunted, still wrestling with the increasingly violent contestant. "He'll die if we do."
Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, to save myself and those I loved, I found myself grabbing the man's other arm. Together, we dragged him toward the exit, his screams of protest mingling with the roar of the flames and the groaning of the palace as it tore itself apart around us.
We burst through the doorway just as an explosion rocked the structure behind us, the force of it propelling us forward onto a wide terrace. The contestant collapsed to his knees, all fight draining from him as he crumpled to the ground in sobs.
For a moment, we all simply gasped for breath, the clean air a blessing after the smoke-filled corridors. Then, slowly, I looked around.
The terrace hung suspended in the sky, surrounded on all sides by nothing but clouds and the distant sparkle of stars. Behind us, the palace continued to burn, flames reaching higher with each passing second. Before us lay... emptiness. Endless, infinite emptiness.
"The rules," I panted, my mind racing back to the gilded script I'd seen. "They were written on the walls inside. When heaven falls, only the sky remains.” I recited the cryptic phrase.
Kyren's eyes widened. "We have to jump," he said, his voice oddly calm given the madness of the suggestion. "It's the only way forward."
"Jump?" Marx echoed. "Into what?"
"It's either jump or burn," Thatcher said quietly, his gaze fixed on the encroaching flames. "Not much of a choice, is it?"
A sliver of panic wedged itself between my ribs. If we were wrong, we'd all plummet to our deaths, contestants and trial both concluded in a single, fatal mistake. But Kyren's certainty was contagious, and as the heat at our backs intensified, the options dwindled to none.
I turned to include the other contestant in our desperate plan, but the space where he'd been kneeling was empty.
"Where did he—" I began, whirling around.
The world seemed to slow as I caught sight of him, his facecontorted with grief and rage, a jagged shard of metal floating just ahead of him. It was pointed straight at Kyren. I lunged, but it was too late.
The shard struck Kyren's temple with a sickening thud. His eyes widened in surprise, a small, confused sound escaping his lips before he crumpled backward, blood already streaming from the wound.
"No!" I screamed, diving toward him, my hands finding his face, his neck, searching desperately for a pulse that wasn't there. His eyes stared sightlessly at the star-strewn sky.
Fury erupted within me, molten and all-consuming. I rose in one fluid movement, drawing down a starblade. I launched myself at the contestant.
I tackled him to the ground, the blade pressed against his throat, hard enough to draw a thin line of blood but not yet deep enough to kill. "He saved your life, you fucking idiot," I snarled, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears. "He dragged you out of there when he could have left you to burn."
The man's eyes were red-rimmed from crying, but there was no remorse in them, only a hollow anger. "He stopped me," he choked out. "My wife... she's dead now because of him."
