What Was Left Behind

Chapter 26: Out of the Abyss

The world was collapsing.

Maia's vision blurred as she stumbled through the smoke-filled ruins of the facility, her limbs heavy, her breath labored. The walls groaned under the weight of destruction, the ground beneath her feet cracking as the final moments of the machine's life unleashed a violent wave of energy. Every step felt like it would be her last, her body battered and weak from the fight that had nearly cost her everything.

Levi was beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her upright as they stumbled toward the last exit. His face was pale, streaked with blood and soot, his breathing ragged. The entire facility was coming down around them, the air thick with dust and ash. Explosions echoed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second, as the building crumbled under its own weight.

"We're almost there," Levi gasped, his voice hoarse, strained. "Just a little further."

Maia nodded weakly, but her vision swam. She could barely see, her mind slipping in and out of consciousness, her body screaming for rest. The blast from the machine had ripped through them both, leaving them bruised, bleeding, and barely able to stand. But she knew they couldn't stop now. Not here. Not yet.

The last door stood just ahead, a thin sliver of daylight cutting through the smoke and debris. Levi pushed forward, dragging Maia with him, his own strength nearly depleted. His steps were uneven, his legs trembling beneath the weight of her body and his own exhaustion.

Just as they reached the door, a massive explosion rocked the facility, sending a violent shockwave through the air. The ground beneath them shifted, and before Maia could react, the floor gave way. She screamed as they fell, her body weightless for a terrifying second before they crashed down into the icy darkness below.

The sound of rushing water was the first thing Maia heard.

Her eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred and filled with strange, disjointed images—the sky above, gray and heavy with rain; the soft whisper of wind against her skin. Her body ached, bruised and battered, and every breath felt like fire in her lungs.

Where was she?

For a moment, she couldn't remember how she had gotten there, couldn't recall the events that had led her to this moment. All she knew was pain. Pain, and the cold sting of water lapping at her skin.

She groaned, trying to move, but her body wouldn't respond. She was too weak, too drained. Her head swam with confusion, flashes of the explosion, the facility, the fight with her father's monstrous legacy all rushing back to her in a dizzying blur. The machine. The collapse.

"Levi..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

She forced her eyes open again, struggling to make sense of the world around her. They were lying on the bank of a river, half-submerged in the freezing water. Her body was soaked, her clothes torn and stained with dirt and blood. But beside her, lying motionless in the mud, was Levi.

He was pale, too still, his body covered in bruises and gashes. For a moment, Maia's heart seized with panic. She reached out with a trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Levi?"

No response.

A sob caught in her throat as she pushed herself closer to him, ignoring the stabbing pain in her side. She pressed her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse, her heart racing in her chest. For a terrifying moment, she felt nothing. But then, faint—so faint it was almost impossible to detect—there was a heartbeat. He was alive.

Maia's breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling with relief and exhaustion. They had survived the explosion. Somehow, they had made it out. But the facility was gone, buried beneath rubble and water, and they had been left stranded, broken, on the edge of the river.