Ashes Of The Throne | Part I

Chapter 163 | August 25th | All These Demons, All These Dreams

**** August 25th | 7.20AM *****

A sickly haze hung over the ruined landscape, choking the sky and burning in Jesse's lungs. Her boots crunched over splintered wood, scorched metal, and the broken fragments of lives that once mattered. The smell of decay clung to the air, turning every breath into a test of will.

In her path, a body lay discarded—its skin pallid, bloodless, a gray husk of what was once a human being.

Jesse paused only a moment before stepping over it, swallowing the nausea clawing at her insides. Keep moving. Keep breathing.

"Anyway," she muttered, her voice unnaturally loud in the stillness. She glanced to Eko beside her. "I don't like this."

Eko took in a shaky breath, squinting through the dense haze. The sun struggled to pierce the gloom, painting the world in a pale, sickly orange that offered no warmth.

"Yeah, well, there's a lot not to like," she replied, her tone hollow. She slumped over a steaming takeaway thermos, her fingers gripping the cool ceramic as if it were the only tether keeping her anchored to reality.

She didn't drink. Instead, she let the heat seep into her frigid hands—a feeble attempt to thaw the bone-deep exhaustion that had sunk in overnight. She'd hardly slept after last night, not since Matthew had woken up screaming at four in the morning. Whatever nightmare he'd endured, it had become hers, too, plaguing her until she could no longer force her eyes shut.

That lingering dread was why she was out here now—trudging across the barren, dead earth with Jesse instead of resting at home, as Matthew had urged before he left. Eko could still hear his voice echoing in her mind, a constant plea to stay safe, to pause and just breathe. But rest was impossible with last night's horrors lurking in every corner of her thoughts, dragging her back into memory before even the first light of dawn.

***** *****

"God, fuck, stop! STOP IT!"

The scream shattered the silence, and Eko bolted awake, her body snapping upright before she could even register the sound fully.  The air vibrated with static, electric and oppressive, squeezing her lungs with each gasp. Her heart pounded, a relentless drum in her ribcage, as she spun toward the source of the chaos.

Matthew convulsed in sheer terror, thrashing wildly against sweat-soaked sheets as if trying to break free from invisible chains. His fingers clawed desperately at the fabric, each movement raw and disjointed. Ragged, broken breaths tore from his chest—every inhale a brutal struggle, every exhale a cry of agony. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, muscles stretched taut as though on the verge of snapping under the relentless strain.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! GET. OFF. ME!"

His head snapped violently to the side, as if struck by invisible, phantom blows, each choked sob slicing through the silence like a razor. She had seen his nightmares too many times before—but this one was different.

"M-Matthew?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling as her throat constricted with both sleep and terror. But he was unreachable—lost in a torment that pulled him into another world, another time entirely.

***** *****

Now, daylight exposed a different horror, one not confined to a single room.

Jesse shifted, drawing Eko back to the present. Eko lifted her head just enough to signal she was listening, though she wouldn't meet Jesse's eyes.

"It's the timing," Jesse went on, each syllable vibrating with frustration. "It's Isis. It's all of it." She swept her arm toward the desolate remains of once-inhabited homes. "What they did to the mages—"