LOCATION: HOUSE EZURA – SKY-LEVEL BALCONY POD, PRE-DAWN
"Not every alarm is for everybody. Some are just for you."
— Afẹ́ralẹ̀ Sage Wisdom (Air Dominion)
---
It was too early for anything to be this bright or loud.
The smart-glass wall was already tinting itself against the rising sun, but Ayanda's voice didn't care about lighting settings.
> "Get up," she said.
Damaso sat up slowly, his head groggy and his heart still pounding from the dreams. He was on a sleeper bench that floated slightly above the ground—a hoverrest made for short naps, not deep sleep. Still, he'd knocked out like a corpse.
Felt fitting.
---
> "Up, I said," Ayanda repeated, sharper.
"The Watch won't wait for you. And neither will your enemies."
"I don't have enemies."
> "Not yet."
---
He dragged himself off the hoverrest and stood, the soles of his feet pressing onto warm-stone floor tiles that lit up briefly under pressure. Everything in Solagun had a glow to it. Even the sadness.
He wore the same long-sleeve shirt from yesterday. He hadn't changed. He didn't want to. It helped him hide the Mark on his chest.
He adjusted the collar nervously. The thing still burned sometimes, like a sun trying to press its way out.
---
He walked out to the edge of the balcony pod.
Solagun blinked around him. Towers of red-gold tech reaching toward the clouds, with drones blinking between them like fireflies.
Everything looked calm. But his chest said otherwise.
---
> "You think you're the first to wear a Mark?" Ayanda asked.
He didn't reply.
> "You think this is about fate? Being chosen? No. You were claimed."
Still nothing.
> "Say something," she snapped.
"You're loud in the morning."
> "I'm loud always."
---
She appeared beside him, her body floating above the guard-rail like she was made of flame and sass.
Only he could see her right now. Lucky him.
> "You keep hiding the Mark like it's shame. Is that what you feel?"
"I don't know."
> "Then you're not ready."
"I died."
> "And I brought you back. That doesn't make you special. That makes you mine."
He winced.
She floated backward, upside down, arms crossed like she was reclining on nothing.
> "Want to know why you came back?" She said with a smirk.
"Not really."
> "Liar."
He rubbed his eyes like he was bored or maybe not yet fully awake and then yawned out.
"Fine, you saved me because I was weak?"
> "No," she said.
"I saved you because you were mine to save. That's the part you keep missing."
He stared down at his shirt. His chest no longer glowing under it and not hurting this time. Just warm.
"I don't want to be yours."
> "Too late."
---
Somewhere inside the tower, a loud alarm started screaming.
Red lights started flashing around the balcony and inside his room too, and the walls started making that clicking sound they made when shields were coming up.
"What's that?" Damaso said, backing up a little.
> "It's obviously not for decoration," Ayanda said.
"Something's coming."
---
A holo popped out of the wall near the hallway—big red letters blinking fast: OUTER WALL BREACH – NORTH RIDGE LINE.
He stared at it and started walking toward the room.
"I'm not going," he said. "I haven't trained for this. Nobody told me anything. I didn't even sleep well—"
> "If you don't go," Ayanda said, real slow,
"I swear I will kill you myself. Then bring you back. Then kill you again. Slower and more painful. And I'll do it over and over till your soul starts begging me to stop."
Damaso stopped walking. He turned to her, blinking.
"…I thought I was your little flame," he muttered.
> "Go," she said, with no smile.
"Now."
---
He ran.
The lifts were already opening. Guards were rushing out, half-dressed, holding weapons and shouting codes.
When he got outside, the air was dusty. The kind of air that feels too quiet but makes your chest tight.
And then he saw them, big things, monsters.
Some looked like dogs but with bones on the outside. Others were just crawling shapes with fire in their eyes.
They weren't attacking yet, they were just standing there.
Waiting.
And something in his body—not his head, not his heart, but that small deep thing in his stomach—told him:
They didn't come to fight the tower.
They came to fight him.