The city breathed around me, alive yet fractured — a reflection of everything inside me. Broken streets patched with cracked promises. Flickering streetlights casting uncertain shadows. And beneath it all, the constant hum of lives trying to carry on, unaware of the wars waging in silent corners.
I wasn't sure who I was anymore. Not the weapon they made, not the girl I once was, but something shattered between those two.
The weight of that fracture pressed down, splitting my mind into shards of anger, doubt, and something dangerously close to hope.
I sat on the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the abyss. The wind tugged at my jacket, cold and relentless.
Memories clawed at me — faces from the past, ghosts who still whispered their demands.
Remi's voice cut through the noise, steady and sure.
"You're stronger than you think," he said. "But strength isn't about never breaking. It's about what you do after."
I closed my eyes, letting the words sink in.
The fracture inside wasn't a weakness.
It was a space to rebuild.
But rebuilding meant facing the cracks.
The lies I'd lived.
The people I'd lost.
And the future I'd almost let slip away.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded photo — worn at the edges, a reminder of who I fought for.
The lines between revenge and redemption blurred.
And I had to decide which path to walk.
Because fractures could either shatter or reshape.
And tonight, I chose to fight for the pieces worth saving.