"Lenna used identity cards for herself and her mother."
The changes began quietly.
Too quietly for anyone to notice—except the system.
Leena felt it first.
A soft ripple passed through her vision, like heat rising off asphalt. Text appeared briefly, translucent and precise.
Identity Reconstruction Initiated.Dual Coverage Protocol: Activated.
She didn't speak.
Didn't move.
She simply watched.
Two identity cards materialized in her awareness—not physical cards, but records embedded deep into the world's systems.
Same names.
Leena johnson.
Lussy johnson.
But everything else had changed.
Dates.
Addresses.
Medical histories.
Academic records.
Financial trails.
Biometric anchors.
Clean.
Consistent.
Untouchable.
If someone searched for them now, they would find lives that made sense.
Lives that didn't intersect with scandals, corporations, or erased prisons.
Lives that were safe.
The system spoke one final line.
Protection layer established.
Host vulnerability reduced.
Leena exhaled slowly.
James hadn't lied.
He hadn't just promised protection.
He had buried them beneath the world itself.
The next day passed like a dream.
Leena stayed with her mother from morning until afternoon, pretending—if only for Lussy's sake—that this was just another hospital day.
They talked about small things.
Food.
Weather.
Old memories that didn't hurt too much.
Lussy's voice was still weak, but her eyes were clearer now.
Hope lived there.
As evening approached, Leena felt it.
Time.
At exactly 6:40 p.m., her phone vibrated once.
No message.
No call.
Just a signal.
Leena stood.
Lussy looked up immediately. "Where are you going?"
Leena smiled softly and sat back down on the edge of the bed.
"I have to go somewhere," she said gently.
"For how long?" her mother asked, a hint of worry slipping through.
Leena hesitated—just for a heartbeat.
"Two years."
Lussy's brows furrowed. "Two years?"
"Yes," Leena said. "When I come back… you'll be completely healed."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Lussy reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and cupped Leena's cheek.
"You've changed," she whispered. "But you're still my daughter."
Leena swallowed.
"I'll come back stronger," she promised. "Stronger enough that no one will ever hurt you again."
She leaned forward and kissed her mother's forehead.
Long.
Lingering.
Like she was memorizing the warmth.
"Wait for me," Leena whispered.
"I will," Lussy said, her voice steady. "No matter how long it takes."
Leena stood.
She didn't look back again.
Outside the hospital, a car waited.
Black.
Unmarked.
Engine running silently.
Leena walked toward it without hesitation.
No one stopped her.
No one questioned her.
As the elevator doors closed behind her, a strange stillness settled over the floor.
The nurse standing nearby frowned.
"I feel like…" she murmured, then stopped.
The doctor beside her shook his head. "Like something important just left."
Neither of them knew why their chests felt tight.
The elevator descended.
Leena disappeared.
Minutes later, the air in Lussy's room changed.
The door opened without a knock.
Ten men entered.
All dressed in black.
No insignias.
No visible weapons.
Their presence alone was enough.
The nurse froze.
The doctor took an instinctive step back.
One of the men raised a hand—not threatening, just absolute.
"Stop," he said calmly.
Before either of them could protest, their phones rang simultaneously.
Hospital management.
Both calls were short.
Very short.
When they ended, neither the nurse nor the doctor spoke again.
They stepped aside.
The men moved with precision.
Two took positions at the door.
Two checked the windows.
Others secured the room, installing equipment so advanced it looked out of place in a hospital.
One man approached Lussy's bed and adjusted her blanket gently.
"You are safe," he said quietly. "No one will disturb you."
Lussy looked at him, confused—but not afraid.
Somehow, she knew.
Outside, the hospital continued as normal.
Patients waited.
Doctors walked.
Lives went on.
No one noticed that a girl named Leena had vanished from the world.
And no one understood that somewhere on the road ahead—
A dragon token rested in her pocket.
And a trial meant to break her was about to begin.
Leena sat in silence as the car glided through the city.
Streetlights passed in slow, golden streaks across the window. Familiar roads blurred into something distant, like memories already fading. She rested her forehead lightly against the glass, watching the world move without her.
This was it.
No turning back.
The car didn't slow for traffic.
Didn't stop at signals.
Routes opened before it as if the city itself was stepping aside.
Within minutes, the buildings thinned.
The air changed.
Open space.
Runway lights.
The car rolled straight onto the airport tarmac.
Not a terminal.
Not a public gate.
A private runway—long, wide, and sealed off from the world.
Leena straightened.
There, standing beneath the floodlights, was James.
Hands behind his back.
Coat unmoving despite the wind.
Eyes fixed on the approaching vehicle.
Behind him—
A monster.
A massive aircraft unlike anything Leena had ever seen.
Dark copper alloy skin.
Angular, predatory lines.
Weapon ports integrated seamlessly into the hull.
Missile bays sat half-exposed, silent but unmistakable.
The engines hummed with a deep, controlled power that vibrated through the ground itself.
This wasn't a plane.
It was a weapon.
No—worse.
It was a message.
The car came to a stop.
The door opened.
Leena stepped out.
The cold night air hit her instantly, sharp and clean. She looked up at the aircraft again, her eyes tracing its length.
"How far does this take me?" she asked quietly.
James turned to her.
"Far enough that no one can follow," he replied.
She nodded once.
The tall men standing behind James were unlike the ones at the hospital.
Bigger.
Heavier.
Their armor was matte black, layered with copper-toned reinforcement. Advanced rifles rested easily in their hands, as natural as breathing.
Missile technicians moved around the aircraft with silent efficiency.
Everything about this place screamed classified.
Leena's fingers brushed her pocket.
The bronze token.
It felt warm.
James noticed.
"That token," he said, "is your key."
"To where?" Leena asked.
"To a place where the world ends," James replied calmly, "and only the strong remain."
She didn't flinch.
Instead, she asked the question that mattered.
"When I come back… will my mother still be alive?"
James met her gaze without hesitation.
"Yes."
"And safe?"
"Untouchable."
Leena held his eyes for a long second.
Then she bowed her head slightly.
"Then I'll go."
James nodded once.
"No communication for two years," he said. "No rescue. No interference."
"I understand."
"One mistake," he continued, "and you die."
Leena smiled faintly.
"I won't make one."
James turned and gestured toward the aircraft.
The boarding ramp lowered soundlessly.
Warm light spilled out from within—white, sterile, almost unreal.
Leena took one last breath of the night air.
Then she walked forward.
Step by step.
As she crossed the threshold, the engines shifted pitch.
The ramp closed behind her.
Sealing her away from the world she knew.
James watched as the aircraft powered up, lights intensifying along its copper body. The ground shook gently as the engines reached full readiness.
The tower cleared the runway.
The aircraft began to move.
Faster.
Faster.
Until the ground dropped away.
And Leena left the world behind—
On a path that would either forge her into something unstoppable…
Or erase her completely.