The underground station was exactly as Nana remembered it.
The same cracked concrete walls.
The same flickering remnants of emergency lighting that somehow still worked after all this time.
The same oppressive darkness that pressed in from all sides, broken only by the glow from their portable lamp.
And there—right there, near the base of the stairs—that was the spot.
Nana stood frozen, staring at the section of floor where Zayne had died in her arms nine months ago. Where she'd held the blade over his heart while he guided her trembling hands.
Where he'd smiled at her with vampire-red bleeding into his hazel eyes and told her she was helping him, setting him free.
Where white mist had consumed his body piece by piece while she'd screamed.
The memory crashed over her like a physical blow. Her knees threatened to buckle. Her chest felt too tight, like someone had wrapped bands of steel around her ribs and was slowly tightening them.
"Nana?"
Zayne's voice came from behind her, concerned. He'd been setting up their temporary sleeping area—just blankets and supplies arranged in a corner that offered some protection—but now his footsteps approached.
She couldn't respond. Couldn't tear her eyes away from that spot on the floor where his blood had pooled before dissolving into mist.
Then arms wrapped around her from behind. Warm and solid and alive. Zayne's chin rested on her shoulder, his chest pressed against her back, surrounding her with his presence.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly. "You've been... different since we entered District 22. Quieter. Sadder. Did something happen here?"
Yes. You died here. I killed you here. I held you while you dissolved into nothing and I couldn't do anything to stop it.
But she couldn't say that. Couldn't explain the trauma of having to mercy-kill the person you loved. Couldn't put into words how it felt to watch someone disappear into mist while they thanked you for murdering them.
"Just..." Nana's voice came out rough, barely above a whisper. "Bad memories. This place. It's..."
She trailed off as tears started falling. Hot and fast, streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Zayne turned her around gently, his hands on her shoulders. When he saw her crying, his expression shifted from concern to something that looked almost like pain.
"Hey," he said, cupping her face with both hands and using his thumbs to wipe away tears. "Talk to me. What happened? Is it because I've been too cold? Too quiet? I know I'm not the most expressive person, and if I did something to hurt you—"
"No." Nana shook her head violently, fresh tears spilling over. "It's not you. It's never you. It's just... this place. And what happened here. And I can't stop seeing it."
"Seeing what?"
She looked up at him—at those beautiful hazel eyes that were so full of concern and confusion. Eyes that had been red the last time she'd seen him here. Eyes that had cried while he'd helped her position a blade over his heart.
"You're died here," she whispered. "Nine months ago. In this station. You got bitten by a vampire and you were transforming and there was no other choice and I..." Her voice broke completely. "I had to kill you. You made me kill you. And I've been trying so hard not to think about it but being here again, seeing that spot where it happened—"
She dissolved into sobs, her whole body shaking.
Zayne went very still. His hands were still cupping her face, but something had changed in his expression. Understanding, maybe. Or horror at what she'd been carrying alone all this time.
"You had to mercy-kill me," he said slowly. "While I was transforming into a vampire."
Nana nodded, unable to speak through the tears.
"And I asked you to do it. Guided your hands?"
Another nod.
"God, Nana." Zayne pulled her against his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other wrapped around her waist.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to do that. That I put you through that."
"It wasn't your fault," she managed. "You were trying to save me. You always try to save me. And I—I couldn't let you become something that would hurt people. Couldn't let you be trapped as a vampire when the portal wouldn't accept you. So I did what you asked and I held you while you died and—"
Her words dissolved into incoherent sobbing. All the trauma she'd been holding back, all the nights she'd woken up feeling phantom blood on her hands, all the times she'd seen that smile on his face while vampire-red bled into his eyes—it all came pouring out.
He didn't try to stop her tears or tell her it was okay. He just held her. Buried his face in her neck and held her tight while she fell apart in his arms.
"This time will be different," he said finally, his voice muffled against her skin.
"This time we'll escape. Both of us. No sacrifices. No one gets left behind."
"You said that last time." Nana's laugh came out bitter, broken. "And the time before that. You always say we'll make it, and then something goes wrong and you decide your life is worth less than mine and you—you leave me. Every time. You leave me."
"I don't remember those times," Zayne said quietly. "Can't remember making those choices or what I was thinking. But I can tell you what I think now, with who I am in this moment."
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands moving to frame her face again.
"I think that person—whoever I was before—was an idiot. Because leaving you alone in this hell isn't protecting you. It's condemning you to suffer without the one person who understands what you've been through. It's forcing you to carry memories of my deaths that I don't even have to remember."
His thumbs brushed away fresh tears.
"And that's not love. That's cruelty disguised as sacrifice."
"Zayne—"
"I'm not going to do that to you again," he said firmly. "I don't care if we have to fight our way through a thousand vampires. I don't care if the odds are impossible. We're both getting through that portal or neither of us is. That's the deal. That's the only acceptable outcome."
"But what if—"
"No" His voice was harder now, more certain. "No 'what ifs.' No noble sacrifices. No last-minute decisions to save you by destroying myself. We live together or we die together, Nana. That's it. That's the only option I'm willing to consider."
Nana stared at him through blurry vision. At the determination in his hazel eyes. At the set of his jaw that said he'd made up his mind and nothing would change it.
"You can't promise that," she whispered. "You can't know what will happen when we're up there. If a vampire catches one of us, if someone has to make a choice—"
"Then we make it together." Zayne's hands tightened on her face. "No more solo decisions. No more sacrificing yourself or me sacrificing myself. If we're going down, we go down together. Fighting. Side by side. The way we've been doing for the last three months."
"You really mean that."
"I'm mean that." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you. This version of me, with no memories of our past, loves you so much it scares me sometimes. And I refuse—absolutely refuse—to put you through losing me again. Not if I can help it."
Fresh tears spilled down Nana's cheeks, but they were different now. Not just grief and trauma, but something that felt almost like hope.
"The blood moon rises in a week," she said softly. "I was thinking... instead of waiting until it fully rises and all the vampires wake up, we climb early. Get to the top of the Ancient Tree and wait for the Wish Bridge to form. That way we're already in position when it appears. We just cross and jump through the portal before the vampires fully wake."
Zayne considered this, his analytical mind clearly working through scenarios.
"That could work. It's risky—if we're spotted before the bridge forms, we're trapped up there with nowhere to run. But the alternative is fighting through thousands of active vampires, which is basically suicide."
"Exactly." Nana pulled back enough to look at him properly. "It's still dangerous. Still a huge risk. But I think it's our best chance of both making it through."
"Then that's what we do." Zayne's hands slid from her face to her shoulders, grounding. "We climb early. We wait. We cross together. And we don't let go of each other no matter what happens."
"No matter what," Nana echoed.
They're stood there in the underground station, holding each other in the same place where everything had gone wrong nine months ago. But this time felt different. This time, Zayne knew the stakes. Knew what she'd been through. Knew what needed to happen.
This time, maybe—just maybe—they had a chance.
"Come here," Zayne said, guiding her toward their makeshift sleeping area. "You need rest. We both do. Next week is going to be..."
"Hell," Nana finished.
"Was going to say 'challenging,' but yes. Hell works too."
He sat down and pulled her with him, arranging them so she was curled against his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her. Like he could protect her from memories and trauma just by holding tight enough.
"Tell me about the plan again," he said softly. "Every detail. I want to make sure we're both on the same page."
So Nana did. She walked him through it step by step—when they'd start climbing, which route they'd take up the Ancient Tree, where they'd hide while waiting for the bridge to form, what they'd do if vampires woke early.
They talked for hours, refining the plan, accounting for every variable they could think of. And slowly, Nana felt the knot of anxiety in her chest begin to loosen.
This time was different. This time, Zayne understood what was at stake. Understood that his life mattered as much as hers.
Understood that sacrifice wasn't the answer.
This time, they had a real plan.
This time, they might actually make it.Zayne's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
"Nana?"
"Mm?"
"When we get through that portal... when we're back in the real world... what happens then?"
Nana lifted her head to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." He seemed to struggle with the words. "Will I remember? Our life in Linkon? Being a doctor? Loving you before all this?"
"I don't know," Nana admitted. "Last time I went through, everything physical reset—my hair grew back, my scars healed. But I kept my memories because I'd never died. You..."
She touched his chest gently, right over where the Roman numeral VI was carved.
"You've died six times. I don't know if the portal will restore your memories or if you'll wake up still not knowing who you were."
"What if I don't remember?" His arms tightened around her. "If I wake up in Linkon with no memories of this place or you or anything we've been through together?"
"Then I find you again," Nana said simply.
"I walk up to you in that cafe where we first met and I order the sweetest drink on the menu and I flirt with you until your ears turn red. And I make you fall in love with me all over again. However many times it takes."
Zayne stared at her for a long moment. Then he laughed—a real laugh that made his whole face transform.
"You're insane," he said.
"You've mentioned that before."
"And I love you anyway."
"You mentioned that too."
Nana smiled, the first genuine smile since entering District 22. "But I never get tired of hearing it."
"I love you," Zayne said obediently. Then again, softer: "I love you, Nana. In this life and whatever comes next. Memory or no memory, I love you."
She kissed him —gentle and sweet and full of promise. A kiss that tasted like hope and determination and the stubborn refusal to give up even when the universe seemed determined to tear them apart.
When they broke apart, Zayne pulled her back against his chest and held her close.
"Sleep," he murmured. "We have a week to prepare, but you need rest. I'll keep watch."
"Wake me in a few hours so you can sleep too," Nana said, already feeling exhaustion pulling at her.
"I'll wake you. But only because I know you'll be insufferable if I don't."
She smiled against his chest and let her eyes close. For the first time since entering the underground station, she felt something other than crushing grief.
She felt ready.
One week. Seven days to prepare for the most important climb of their lives.
Seven days until they either escaped together or died together.
But they wouldn't die. Couldn't die. Not when they'd come this far. Not when they'd found each other again across death and rebirth and impossible odds.
They were getting out of this hell.
Both of them.
Together.
No matter what it took.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.