Chapter 4

Aurora woke up to the sound of voices and the intermittent beeping of machines.

The white ceiling, the cold light. The smell of disinfectant. It took her a few seconds to understand where she was.

Hospital.

She tried to sit up. Her head was throbbing. Her arm hurt—a bandage wrapped around her shoulder. The IV was still attached to her vein, a plastic tube tying her to that room. But none of that mattered.

On the television, hanging in the corner, live images showed the tragedy: an aerial view of southern Manhattan, chaos everywhere. “Unprecedented catastrophe,” read the caption. People were being rescued from rooftops, cars were floating among the debris, there were screams, sirens, helicopters.

Aurora's heart raced.

“Mom.”

The word escaped her lips in a dry whisper.

The last thing she remembered was Helena's hand slipping from hers. And now... nothing. No presence. No news.

She yanked the IV out with a sharp tug. The pain was sharp but fleeting. She planted her feet on the floor, still barefoot. It didn't matter.

In the hallway, the chaos was the same. Nurses running. Screams everywhere. People on the floor. Nameless people. Too many people.

No one noticed when Aurora passed by.

She reached the reception desk, sweaty, trembling, her voice almost failing:

“My mother. Helena. Helena Lacerda. She was with me on the pier... She—she's gone.”

The attendant didn't even look up. There was a line of desperate faces. Everyone was looking for someone.

“Many missing. A partial list is on the board next door. But it's out of date. I'm sorry, miss.”

Aurora didn't thank her. She didn't answer. She walked away, as if floating. Her mother's words came back to her with a vengeance.

“If anything happens and we're not together... go home, Aurora. I'll find you there.”

Her mind clung to that like a lifeline. She had to go back. Helena had to be there.

She ran down the streets like a shadow. Her legs could barely hold her up, but she didn't stop. The scene was apocalyptic—overturned cars, sirens, the smell of burning mixed with the sea air. Every step hurt, but she made it.

The house was intact on the outside.

Inside, it was empty.

No suitcases. No sign that Helena had been there.

Aurora sat down on the sofa. For a minute, she just cried. But soon she lifted her face. She needed help. Carlos. He always said that if anything happened, she could count on him.

She changed her clothes: dark jeans, a worn jacket. She grabbed her old cell phone, which had no signal. She put it in her pocket and left. The sky was already darkening.

The walk to the diner was quick. The streets were calmer, but still on alert. Lights were flashing, helicopters were in the distance.

When she entered the small diner, the bell on the door jingled.

Carlos appeared behind the counter, his eyes wide.

“Aurora! My God, are you okay? I... earlier some men came here asking for you, they...”

He didn't have time to finish.

A sound tore through the air. It wasn't a normal gunshot. It was higher pitched. Like lightning cutting through metal.

Aurora threw herself to the floor instinctively. Her breath caught in her throat.

When she turned her head, Carlos's body was lying less than two meters away.

His eyes were open.

His forehead was pierced by a perfectly round hole—and burned around the edges, as if it had been hit by pure energy.

Her scream got stuck in her throat.

And the footsteps were getting closer. Slowly.

Aurora crawled backward, unable to blink.

Someone was coming in.

And now... she was the target.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Heavy. Determined.

And then, the voice:

“Don't hide, cutie. I already saw you.”

Aurora froze. Her heart pounded in her chest as if it wanted to escape before she did. Her hands pressed against the cold floor of the cafeteria. She was sure she was going to die there. Alone. With Carlos' blood still warm beside her face.

But the next shot didn't come.

Others came.

From other directions.

A crash. Then another. Then many.

Glass shattered. Wood flew. Lights flashed. Screams.

A war. That's what was happening. Two groups exchanging gunfire—or whatever those explosive lights were—and Aurora trapped in the middle. On the floor. Confused.

The man who had killed Carlos was there. But he wasn't alone. And now others were moving like armed shadows, each with weapons that didn't seem of this world.

Aurora crawled backward. She tried to run away.

That's when she saw him.

Amid the smoke, between gunshots and chaos, a figure emerged that made the world seem to stop for a second.

Straight black hair, messy on his forehead. Tall, muscular body. A face that looked like it had been sculpted by force—a sin of perfection. But what paralyzed Aurora were his eyes.

Blue.

Blue like thunder. Like electricity. Like something that couldn't—shouldn't—exist.

He walked straight up to her. Without hesitation. As if he already knew her.

Grabbing her arm, he lifted her up forcefully. Aurora fell to her knees. She was weak. Dizzy. The smell of burning, blood, and fried food mixed in the air.

“Shit,” he growled, his eyes flashing with frustration. “Get up, princess, or we'll be dead in less than a second.”

Aurora tried to ask who he was, what was happening, why they were shooting, but she didn't have time.

Another shot. Louder. It passed inches from her face.

The man pulled her hand hard. And they ran.

With one hand, he fired a gun that seemed to spit compressed light. With the other, he dragged Aurora, dodging debris, bodies, destroyed tables.

The street in front of the diner was pure chaos.

Explosions.

Voices screaming in a language she didn't know.

And then he got on a motorcycle—bigger than any she had ever seen. Metallic. Shining like a living beast.

“Come on!” he shouted. “Get on!”

Aurora got on.

Not because she trusted him. But because she had no choice.

She clung to him tightly, her arms wrapped around his warm chest, the engine roaring like an animal about to devour the night.

And the moment her body touched his—

—something happened.

An electric current ran through her body. It wasn't pain. It was... power. As if her senses had been reconnected. As if the entire universe was flashing inside her.

Aurora gasped.

But she didn't have time to understand.

Because he accelerated.

And the night swallowed them both.