The day we fell.

chapter 16: 1155

Skyla's POV:

It's been three hours since we brought Tom back, my face still hurts from Lucy but now I've won. Tom lay on a hospital bed, the procedure was over and finished, the first soldier the new Syndicate army. We would dominate the region with our new army, but for now, one soldier would have to do it. Tom's body began to twitch and move. "... Lu... Lu" mumbled Tom, "Yes, Tom?" I lean in closer to better hear him. "Lucy... Is she ok?" Asked Tom, his eyes slightly open. "Forget her tom, you have me and the Syndicate now" I replied, why does he still want Lucy? "They lied to you Tom, lied to you, like the rest did! They don't love you and never did, but I and the Syndicate do, we will take care of you" I exclaimed. "Do you pledge allegiance to me and the syndicate?" I asked. "I do" replied Tom, I could tell by the different look in his eyes that the procedure worked, and I gave a slight smirk. "Once you've recovered we have a target for you, Tom" I stated. "Who," He asked. We equipped Tom with body armour, 2 machetes and a helmet with a camera so we could monitor what he was doing. The camera was essential as once Tom had found the target, we could cause the rage hormones to activate causing him to kill anything he sees, what the procedure did was make it so we had control over the hormones, when before he was always angry.

Lucy's POV:

My mind replays the horrors, Tom has forcefully ripped away from my desperate grasp, becoming nothing more than a pawn in Skyla's twisted game. Lost in his rage, for what might seem to be forever. My heart shattered into a million fragments, and frustration surged through my veins like a raging river. How could Skyla be so heartless, using the man I loved as a weapon against me? The weight of betrayal and helplessness crushed me, threatening to suffocate the very essence of who I was. Tears streamed down my face as I stumbled upon a secluded pond, its tranquil surface mirroring the turmoil within my soul. Collapsing to my knees, I unleashed a torrent of sobs that echoed through the desolate landscape. Each cry was a desperate plea, a futile attempt to release the pent-up frustration and overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume me whole.

Amidst the despair, my trembling hand instinctively reached for the survival knife holstered at my side. The blade glinted in the fading light, a flicker of determination igniting within me. My gaze fell upon the long, soft strands of my black hair, once a symbol of femininity and vulnerability. But now, they felt like chains, binding me to a sense of powerlessness that I could no longer bear. With a trembling breath, I made a decision. A decision I may regret as soon as I went ahead with it, but life is full of mistakes and nobody will tell me what to do with my life anymore. I breathe shakily, making sure I want to go along with it, and I agree with myself. I will do this. Gripping a handful of my silky locks tightly, I raised the knife with a mix of anger and desperation. The first strand fell, floating gracefully upon the pond's still surface. With each merciless cut, I severed the ties to my former self, relinquishing the remnants of weakness that had held me captive for far too long. The sound of scissors slicing through my hair mingled with my anguished cries, a symphony of defiance against the cruelty of the world.

As the last remnants of my once-flowing hair fell around me, I sat in a dishevelled heap, my breaths ragged and my eyes puffy from tears. The pond reflected a new image before me - a woman marked by resilience, her cropped hair an emblem of strength and determination. At that moment, the frustration that had overwhelmed me transformed into an undying confidence. With my newfound resolve coursing through my veins, I rose from the ground, wiping away the remnants of tears and dirt from my face. My shortened hair framed a determined visage, etching determination into every line and contour. I was no longer the helpless victim of circumstances but a warrior, ready to face the trials that awaited me head-on, whether that may be alone or with friends, I am not hiding away anymore.

In the days that followed my pursuit to get Tom back, I channelled my frustration into unwavering determination. My love for Tom became the catalyst for my unwavering strength, driving me forward in my quest to rescue him from Skyla's clutches. I honed my survival skills, mastering the weapons of this unforgiving world, and fortifying my body and mind for the battles that lay ahead. My cropped hair became a symbol of defiance, a declaration that I would not be broken by the relentless darkness. No longer burdened by the weight of vulnerability, I embraced my inner warrior, ready to fight tooth and nail for the love that had been torn away from me. Each step I took was imbued with a renewed purpose, my heart aflame with determination.

Beside the pond, as the sun dipped below the horizon, I stood tall, a beacon of resilience against the encroaching darkness. The echoes of my cries faded into the night, replaced by a fierce determination to reclaim Tom from the clutches of Skyla's tyranny. With every fibre of my being, I vowed to tear down the walls that separated us, to rewrite our destiny with my own hands.

Every day, I pushed myself to the limit, training relentlessly to rid the world of Skyla's malevolence and free Tom from the clutches of the rage serum. Sweat dripped from my brow as I honed my combat skills, striking with precision and ferocity. Each punch and kick was fuelled by the fire of determination burning within me, the desire to reclaim the love that had been stolen from me. Jace became my guiding light, imparting his wisdom and teaching me the art of war. I immersed myself in their teachings, absorbing every ounce of knowledge they had to offer. From hand-to-hand combat to tactical strategies, I devoured each lesson with unwavering focus.

The weight of weapons became familiar in my hands as I learned to wield them with deadly accuracy. Blades gleamed under the watchful moonlight as I practised intricate manoeuvres, envisioning Skyla's demise with every stroke. Each swing was an act of defiance, a declaration that I would not rest until Tom was freed from the clutches of darkness. But training went beyond the physical realm; it extended into the depths of my mind. I mastered the art of meditation, harnessing inner peace amidst the chaos. I trained myself to remain calm under pressure, to strategize amidst the tumultuous storm that Skyla had unleashed.