The Prototype

Chapter 28

The battle was over. The storm had subsided. The earth, once trembling beneath the weight of Maia's fury, was now eerily still. The only sound that remained was the shallow, ragged breaths of the group, their bodies battered and spent, struggling to recover from the intensity of the fight. The storm had cleared, but a new dread settled in the air—an unsettling, heavy silence that seemed to hang over them all.

Ethan's heart pounded, not from the battle, but from the weight in his arms. The very arms that had just fought to stop Maia's destructive rage now cradled her fragile form. The weight of the prototype energy—its radiation—had seeped into her bloodstream. It had been too much, too fast. The energy had overwhelmed her. She had been consumed by it in ways they hadn't anticipated.

Maia's once-strong, defiant posture had crumpled, and now she lies in Ethan's arms, a shadow of the woman she had been moments ago. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow, barely a whisper as if each breath she drew took every last ounce of strength.

"Maia," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling, not with fear, but with grief. "You can't—please... you have to fight it."

Her eyes fluttered, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to speak. But no words came. She just looked at him with an unreadable expression—one of pain, confusion, and something else. Regret? Acceptance?

Ethan's throat tightened. He felt helpless, his heart a heavy stone in his chest. They had defeated her, but at what cost? He had always thought of Maia as the enemy, as the force they needed to stop, but in this moment, holding her broken body, he saw only the girl who had been consumed by power—power she couldn't control.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Ethan whispered to everyone who stood behind him, his voice distant as Solace approached. "We didn't want this. We didn't want to hurt her. We just wanted her to be stopped.."

Ethan shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on Maia. The pain in her eyes—he couldn't ignore it. She had been a victim of her own power, manipulated by the very darkness she had sought to control.

The others were standing nearby, their faces drawn, as if none of them could find the words to say. Rowan's face was grim, his usual humor long gone, replaced with a somber look. Nathan hovered, still struggling to keep his balance, but even his levitation couldn't mask the heaviness in his eyes.

"She's not going to make it, is she?" Rowan said quietly, the words almost a question but filled with the certainty of the situation. There was no denial in his voice, just the raw acknowledgment of the truth.

Ethan didn't answer. He didn't need to. The reality was evident in Maia's labored breaths, in the way her hand twitched as though she were trying to reach for something—or someone—but she couldn't.

Her chest rose once more, the last of her strength fading with each breath. A faint spark of recognition crossed her features as her gaze locked with Ethan's. For a moment, she seemed to focus on him, on the light in his eyes, and then the corner of her mouth twitched—a ghost of a smile, fleeting and broken.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, barely audible, her voice cracking as if it were the last thing she could muster. Her hand, trembling, reached up weakly, her fingers brushing against Ethan's cheek as if to touch the humanity he had fought to protect.

Ethan's breath caught in his throat. "Don't—don't say that. You didn't—"

"Your love was the greatest thing I've ever founded and had the chance to create with you.." Maia says her voice becoming into a whisper, her breathing becoming more narrow and deep.

"Ethan..." she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, a faint smile forming as she looked into his eyes. "Promise me... you'll keep going. That you'll finish... what we started."