The darkness around me slowly blooms into a muted world of black and white. Shapes emerge from the void a city street, cold and foreign, yet eerily familiar. Figures walk past me in blurred silhouettes, faces hazy and indistinct, as though the world itself refuses to remember them.
I blink, dazed, and reach into my pocket. My fingers tremble as they brush against cold metal a phone. A single message glows on the cracked screen:
Amicia, we don't have much time. Meet me at the usual spot center of town. They're already on your trail. Don't waste a second.
My stomach twists. My heartbeat quickens until it drowns out every other sound. I look up, scanning the crowd with growing dread. Then movement.
A group of men in black suits stands across the street. One of them raises a hand, pointing directly at me.
"In there! That's her!"
The shout is muffled, but I know the tone command.
Adrenaline surges through my body before my mind catches up. My legs move on instinct, tearing through the faceless crowd. Shoulders slam into me. Voices blur together. My lungs burn, every breath scraping like broken glass. Tears sting my eyes as I push harder, running until the world itself feels like it's spinning around me.
I round a corner into an alleyway. Empty. Silent.
My chest heaves. The air tastes of metal and decay, the stench of trash and oil seeping into my lungs. I clutch at my ribs, forcing air into my body, panic shaking every inch of me. With trembling hands, I dig through my jacket and pull out a pistol slick with sweat. I raise it toward the mouth of the alley, hands unsteady.
Then a voice.
Calm. Soft. Almost familiar. I can't make out the words, but it cuts through the noise like a whisper in the void.
I spin around, gun half-raised and freeze.
Someone stands there, arms open, face blurred by the haze. My body moves before I think. I stumble forward, collapsing into their embrace. The warmth of their arms wraps around me, steadying the storm in my chest. For a fleeting moment, the world feels safe again like the eye of a hurricane.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps. The click of safeties. And the cold echo of metal being drawn.
I turn my head. The men in suits stand at the alley's mouth, pistols raised, shouting words I can't make out. My pulse slows. Time stretches thin. I turn back toward the one holding me, ready to lift my gun
Bang.
Pain explodes through my back, tearing out through my chest. The gun slips from my hand. My knees buckle. I collapse, the ground rushing up to meet me.
The sound of the city fades streetcars, voices, sirens all drowned beneath the thunder of my heartbeat. My vision trembles, narrowing to a single image: a smoking barrel, framed by blurred faces.
I fall again this time into someone's arms. I can't see them clearly, only the shimmer of tears gathering in their eyes as they clutch my hand.
Their lips move. I hear only fragments.
"I'm… sorry, Amicia…"
My breath comes in short, uneven gasps. Warmth drains from my fingertips. The air tastes of copper and smoke. I want to speak to ask why but all that escapes is a broken whimper. My hand slips from theirs, my chest stuttering as sound and color drain from the world.
Flashing lights dance across the alleyway. The suited men scatter. Somewhere, a voice yells my name,` but I no longer recognize it.
My final breath leaves my body as the light fades, and the darkness takes me back.