Ashes Of The Throne | Part I

Chapter 144 | December 13th | Hit Me Where The Heart Is

Eko slumped onto the lounge, exhaustion pulling her down like an anchor. She leaned heavily against Mya and Jesse, her body trembling under the weight of everything that had transpired. The night had been brutal, each moment more harrowing than the last, and the group had lashed out at her behind closed doors, voices rising in confusion about what exactly she had done. But it was Toni, hobbling into the room on crutches, who silenced the chaos.

Without hesitation, Toni made his way over to her, his face tight with pain but his heart wide open. He pulled her into a tight hug, his body trembling as he whispered brokenly, "Thank you... for bringing him back." His voice cracked, and in that moment, he almost collapsed in her arms, apologizing over and over that he hadn't been able to protect Matthew. His guilt bled into hers, and the weight of it shattered her defenses.

They stood together, their tears mingling as the others slowly joined, wrapping their arms around the pair in a silent show of solidarity. The weight of nearly losing Matthew, of the narrow escape from a devastating loss, had crushed them all, leaving them drained and hollowed out, their strength spent.

But the real torment came now, as reality set in. Protocol Margot was in full effect—a plan designed to protect the headmaster's privacy in the event of an assassination attempt or, worse, his death. The protocol, named after the first headmaster who had been killed when the academies were founded, had been put in place to prevent history from repeating itself. The academies' boards, having long prepared for such an eventuality, moved swiftly, ensuring that any chaos or panic among the public would be contained.

Yet, despite these careful precautions, the news of Matthew's attack had ignited a firestorm of action over the past twelve hours. Word had spread faster than they could control, and the response had been brutal. Allegiant's academies, fueled by fear and rage, had launched a full-scale assault on their enemies. Territories across the western seaboard were purged, entire networks dismantled. The elite teams—those trained by Matthew himself—were hunting down Xero and any remaining factions allied with Ezra.

The violent retaliation was necessary, but it left the group feeling the weight of a system spiraling into war, reacting to protect itself from the blow that had nearly crippled it.

Richie and Toni had allowed the boards to continue their operations; their focus, like Eko's, was on something far more personal. They had needed to let Allegiant show strength, even as their own hearts broke under the strain. To the world, Allegiant had to look indomitable, but behind closed doors, they were all teetering on the edge.

Eko, exhausted and barely holding herself together, slumped deeper into the lounge in the ICU. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the constant hum of machinery filled the air around her, making her stomach twist into knots. It was unbearable—the waiting, the not knowing, the endless stretch of time as they all hung on the fragile hope that Matthew would wake.

Each minute dragged like a slow torture, bringing her back to the last time he had been in this condition, waiting for his body to heal from the ravages of reaper poison. Back then, it had taken days for him to regain consciousness. But this time was worse. So much worse.

This time, Matthew had died. Clinically declared dead. He had slipped from her, and for those harrowing minutes, he had been gone.

She hadn't told the others about her second crystal. She had lied, saying she had simply given everything to revive Matthew's crystal. But the truth was far darker. She had used the other one—the one she had hidden for so long—and it had drained her in ways she still didn't fully understand.

But despite the nausea and exhaustion, it had worked. Matthew was breathing again. His heart, which had once stopped, was now beating under the steady surveillance of the machines, each beep a fragile lifeline tethering him to the present. For thirteen agonizing hours, the doctors had been watching him with meticulous care, returning with cautious optimism but no promises. It had been a long, tenuous night.