Night fell with no warning. Ayla and Elian lay low in the greenhouse, ears tuned to every
distant sound. Rain tapped the broken glass. Wind pushed through torn vines. Their
muscles ached from wounds and from running.
Ayla checked the flash drive again. The label had burned edges. She hid it beneath her
shirt. Elian watched her with a look that held guilt and resolve.
"Phase two starts tonight," he said. His voice was flat.
She closed her eyes. "Where?"
He pointed toward the science wing, across the quad. "They use that lab for late
experiments. Old wiring, flammable chemicals. Easy target."
Ayla swallowed. "Who would do this now?"
He met her. "They want a clean cover. A new tragedy to hide what sits on that drive."
She thought of children in photographs. Of files stamped with dates. Of faces erased.
Her stomach tightened. "Then we stop them."
Elian shook his head. "We expose them. Then stop the rest."
They moved fast. They left the greenhouse through a side gate and slipped along
shadowed walls. The campus felt empty. Guards paced with flashlights. Their beams
swept past them. Ayla stayed low. Elian led.
The science wing hummed with a faint orange glow from inside. The doors stood closed.
A faint heat kissed the glass. Students celebrated in dorms far from this danger. No one
saw the danger approaching the lab.
They reached the service entrance. A lock clicked when Elian picked it. He breathed,
calm and steady. Ayla followed him into a corridor lined with lockers. The smell hit first.
Chemical sourness. Then a metallic tang. Then smoke."Elian," she whispered. "Fire."
He scanned the hallway. A faint drip echoed from a vent. Sparks lay like fallen stars
along a metal shelf. A smear of oily residue marked the floor, leading toward the main
lab.
They moved toward the lab door. Footsteps thudded behind them. Someone else had
come for the same scene.
Inside the lab, flames had found oxygen. Bunsen burners sat tipped. A chemical tray
smoked on the counter. A beaker fractured and hissed. Papers curled into black.
Ayla froze at the sight of a framed photo on the lab wall. Dr. Helena Vale stood beside a
younger man in a suit. A plaque beneath read: Funding Partners. The frame swayed from
heat.
Elian grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall. He sprayed toward the nearest blaze,
pushing back a wave of orange. The extinguisher coughed. The fire roared louder.
"More in the storage room," he shouted. "They packed accelerants."
Ayla checked every table. Cabinets were locked. A supply closet lay sealed. She pried at
the latch. The handle broke. Behind the door, rows of solvents stared like predators.
A crash echoed from the back of the room. A shelf collapsed. A steel cart rolled into a
workbench and slammed into a gas line. A higher alarm started wailing. Red lights
stuttered.
"Elian, we have to go," she cried.
He moved toward the heavy door at the far end. A student locker jammed against the
frame. He shoved with both shoulders. The door groaned, but smoke pushed back like a
living thing.
Someone screamed. A voice called a name. A shadow passed across the doorway. Ayla
squinted through the smoke and saw movement in the hall. Figures ran toward the
northern stairwell. More flames licked the ceiling above.
"Where did that figure go?" she shouted over the alarm.Elian didn't answer. He pushed deeper, searching the lab benches, ripping open
drawers. His hands found a small metal case beneath a sink. He lifted it and shoved it
into his jacket.
"Found something," he yelled. "Records. Phone. Help me get out!"
Ayla wrapped an arm around his waist. They ran for the main exit. The hall behind them
filled with heat. A spark landed on a stack of papers and fed a new flame.
The exit refused to open. The wheel handle had seized. Elian slammed his shoulder into
the door again and again. The metal shrieked under force. Sweat stung both of them.
The arch above the door began to glow.
"Elian!" Ayla grabbed his sleeve. "The roof. Move."
He nodded and pulled her toward a side ladder that led to the roof hatch. They climbed,
smoke clawing at their faces. The ladder rattled. Beam supports creaked.
At the hatch, Elian wrenched the latch. The hatch stuck. He kicked the hatch. The metal
bent. A spray of sparks fell. The hatch popped open with a groan.
They pulled themselves onto the roof. Rain hit them hard, in cold, precise strikes. For a
moment, the wet soot smelled like salvation. The lab below burned fierce and hungry.
Elian scanned the scene. "Lara," he said under his breath. "She's covering more than
revenge."
"Where did she go?" Ayla asked.
He pointed toward a service corridor that ran beneath the auditorium. A van idled there,
black windows, engine idling. Two figures worked near the back, dragging boxes to a
waiting cart.
Ayla watched as one figure bent and reached. The other tossed a folded fabric to cover
something. A strange shape rolled beneath, heavy and awkward. When the box moved, a
glint caught Ayla's eye. A watch. Melted metal on a chain. The shape matched the watch
Elian wore before the gym fire.
"Elian." Her voice broke. "He's down there."
His face went white. "No."They peered over the parapet. Heat warped the air. Flames licked an exit stair well.
Smoke curled up an exhaust vent from where a figure lay half-hidden behind rubble. A
hand, pale with ash, still moved.
"Elian!" Ayla shouted, voice ragged. She scrambled down the fire escape. The ladder
clanged under her, every rung a promise and a risk. She slid down faster than she'd ever
climbed.
Behind her, feet pounded. Elian followed, but slower. His breath came ragged.
At the base, the fire had already eaten the stairwell roof. Men in dark jackets hauled the
heavy shape toward the van. One of them turned and looked up. For a heartbeat, his face
cleared. A flash. Recognition. He dropped the figure.
Alya's breath caught. The figure rolled, revealing a charred sleeve and a familiar watch
strap melted to skin. A face, half-burned, turned toward her. Eyes opened. Dark, wet,
alive.
"Elian," she whispered.
He blinked, coughing, ash in his throat. Blood streaked from a cut across his forehead.
His jaw tightened as pain ripped through him. He tried to push himself up, but a slab of
metal trapped his leg. A beam had pinned him in place.
The men froze. One reached down to help. The other stepped back, then shoved the
helper away. Someone shouted orders. The van door slammed shut. Men moved with the
efficiency of those who planned every scene.
"Elian!" Ayla dropped to her knees and grabbed his hand. His skin burned under her
fingers. He squeezed once.
"Run," he rasped. "Get the drive safe. Don't—"
A new blast of heat rolled over them. A flare of gas fed the blaze. The men froze. The
van's engine revved. Tires screeched. The driver backed into the smoke and
disappeared.
Ayla tried to lift the beam. Her hands slipped on charred metal. Her shoulder slammed
into rough stone. The beam didn't budge."Elian!" She dug at the rubble, frantic. Fire chewed at the edges of the stairwell. The lab
alarm shrieked like a wounded animal. Firefighters shouted commands in the distance.
Their hoses sprayed futile arcs that steamed on contact.
"Elian, hold on," she shouted through choking smoke.
His eyes found hers. He smiled, weak and fierce. "Finish this," he whispered. "Room
403. Find Vale."
She shook her head. "No. I won't leave you."
He coughed and spat a bit of blood onto the stone. "Go."
Ayla dug harder. Her nails broke. The beam held. Heat licked her hair. Fear boiled like
acid in her chest.
A distant crash sounded as a secondary explosion rocked the lab. Sparks rained down.
The beam shifted a fraction.
Elian's hand loosened. He looked upward, pain sharp on his face. A final breath came
like a broken promise.
"Stay with me," Ayla begged.
He tried to answer, but smoke filled his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed.