Chapter Thirty-Four: The Ones Who Wake
The corridor narrowed as they ran, emergency lights bathing everything in a pulsing red that felt too close to a heartbeat. Hazel moved without hesitation, turning left, then right, her feet following paths she hadn't consciously learned.
Lucien noticed.
"You know where you're going," he said between breaths.
"I know where we can go," she corrected. "Some doors lead to nothing. Some lead to traps."
"And this one?"
She glanced back at him. "This one leads to a chance."
Behind them, alarms layered over each other, systems tripping like dominoes. Hazel could feel the building reacting to her presence—security protocols re-routing, locks hesitating, cameras blinking as if unsure whether to see her or not.
They burst through a stairwell door and started down. Three flights below, Hazel froze.
Lucien almost collided with her. "Hazel—"
"Someone's there," she whispered. "Not one. Two."
The air shifted. Heavy. Charged.
A voice floated up from the shadows. "Relax. If we wanted you caught, you'd already be on the floor."
A woman stepped into the red glow. Short hair. Calm eyes. Hands deliberately visible.
Beside her stood a man Hazel immediately felt—fractured, buzzing, unstable.
Like a live wire wrapped in skin.
Lucien moved protectively. "Who are you?"
The woman's gaze flicked to Hazel, sharp and curious. "The question is—what are you?"
Hazel met her stare without flinching. "Someone who doesn't want to be hunted."
A slow smile. "Good. Neither do we."
The man laughed suddenly, a harsh, broken sound. "She's strong," he muttered. "Can't you feel it? She bends things just by standing there."
"Quiet, Jonah," the woman said, gently but firmly.
Hazel's chest tightened. Others like you, the man from before had said.
This was what he meant.
"What happened to him?" Hazel asked, nodding toward Jonah.
The woman hesitated. "Phase Two. Without consent. Without balance."
Jonah's hands twitched, sparks dancing briefly across his fingers. The stairwell lights flickered.
Lucien swore under his breath.
Hazel stepped forward before anyone could stop her. Jonah's head snapped up, eyes wild—
Then softened.
The sparks died.
Everyone froze.
Hazel felt it again—that subtle pull, not control, not command. Alignment.
Jonah exhaled shakily. "It's quiet," he whispered. "For once."
The woman stared at Hazel, awe breaking through her composure. "You stabilize them."
"I don't want to," Hazel said. "I just… don't want anyone else to break."
Footsteps echoed above. Shouts. They were running out of time.
The woman made a decision. "My name's Mara. We have a way out. And a place you'll want to see."
Lucien looked at Hazel. "This could be another trap."
Hazel scanned the branching futures—some dark, some bloody.
One… uncertain. But alive.
"We go," Hazel said.
Mara nodded once. "Then welcome to the side they couldn't control."
They moved fast, down a service tunnel that shouldn't have existed. As they ran, Hazel felt it—faint, distant pulses. More minds like hers.
Some calling.
Some screaming.
Hazel clenched her fists, resolve settling deeper than fear.
She wasn't alone.
And whatever was waking in the world, it was already looking for her.