The doctor stepped out of Nyla's room, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. He made his way to the observation room, where Liam Turner awaited him, his brow furrowed with concern.
“How is she, Tim?” Liam asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.
The doctor shook his head, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Her physical condition is deteriorating. This place isn’t helping her—it’s like throwing a wounded animal into a cage.”
Liam clenched his fists, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. “You need to get her out of here. Keeping her in this psych ward is only amplifying her trauma.”
Regret gnawed at him; he could see Nyla's face, wild with fear and confusion. It was his fault she was here. When she’d been transferred to the capital, he hadn’t been where he should have been. By the time he arrived, she had already been branded a psychiatric case, her ordeal deepening as they treated her like a monster instead of a victim.
“I’m doing everything I can,” Liam said, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s taking longer than expected to orchestrate her exit from Azul without drawing suspicion. I can’t even meet her face to face.”
The doctor nodded, understanding the delicate web of politics they navigated. “Just remember, every moment counts. The longer she stays, the harder it will be to bring her back.”
As he turned to leave, Liam’s mind raced with thoughts of Nyla, trapped in her own hell. He felt the suffocating walls of the hospital closing in on him, mirroring the confines of her room. Alone in the observation room, he wrestled with the shadows of his choices, hoping to find a way to save her before it was too late.
Azul was a nation ensnared in the iron grip of the church, its power woven intricately into the very fabric of society. The authorities propagated the illusion that the divine presence rendered them immune to the horrors of demon attacks, but the truth lay buried beneath layers of propaganda and secrecy. For over a century, the church had silenced any mention of demon incursions, manipulating information to fortify the faith of the populace.
But when the unthinkable occurred—a real demon attack—their carefully constructed facade began to crack. The Anti Demon Association (ADA) became a pawn in this grim game, tasked with controlling the narrative. Their mandate was clear: maintain silence, bury the evidence, and deal with the aftermath—all in exchange for a steady stream of funding from the church, which feared that even a whisper of truth could shatter their authority.
Liam Turner felt the weight of this corruption bearing down on him. The ADA executives were trapped in a web of moral compromise, knowing that without the church’s backing, their operations would collapse. Money flowed, but at what cost? Lives hung in the balance, and the truth was twisted into knots, suffocated under the pretense of divine protection.
As he contemplated Nyla’s situation, Liam’s heart raced with frustration. Every step he took to extricate her from this nightmare was met with resistance, bound by the very forces that claimed to keep the people safe. The shadows of the church loomed large, and within them, the screams of the forgotten echoed—a haunting reminder of the demons that walked among them, both literal and figurative.
Liam had smuggled survivors in such a situation before. But Nyla was a different story altogether. According to Alexander’s report, she possessed knowledge about demons that was far beyond what any ordinary citizen of Azul would ever know—knowledge that could threaten the very foundations of the church's power. Whispers of the world from which demons originated and the existence of the twelve Watchmen, guardians who wielded power against the darkness, lingered on her lips like forbidden fruit. Such secrets were confined to the hushed conversations of the ADA’s executive circle, away from the prying eyes of the public.
Liam realized that if the other executives caught wind of her revelations, they would do anything to silence her permanently. He had to uncover how she learned about these secrets before it was too late. Smuggling her out of Azul became an urgent mission, fraught with peril and complexities. He had barely managed to cover up Nyla’s incident as a mere hit-and-run, thanks to the discreet help of allies like Dr. Tim Pearce. But escaping the country—now that was an entirely different beast.
Every step he took felt like walking on a tightrope, teetering dangerously between the need to protect Nyla and the suffocating scrutiny of the church's enforcers. The clock was ticking, and each passing moment brought them closer to a revelation that could unravel everything.
Liam leaned against the glass of the observation room, his heart heavy as he gazed at Nyla's frail figure, illuminated under the stark fluorescent lights. The girl he once knew as a beacon of calm had been reduced to this: a tattered soul, haunted by memories that danced just out of reach. It felt grotesque, the irony of survival hanging in the air like a thick fog. She had escaped the clutches of brutality only to be ensnared by a system that would bury her truth.
He knew that Nyla held secrets about the demons and the twelve Watchmen—arcane knowledge that would shatter the carefully constructed illusion the church maintained in Azul. To the outside world, demons were but shadows, their existence denied. Yet Nyla had glimpsed beyond the veil, and that made her a target.
With a deep sigh, Liam turned away from the glass, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. There was a way to get her out, but it involved traversing a labyrinth of complications, not least of which was the insufferable Alexander. The man-child had a knack for turning even the simplest plans into grand disasters. As he plotted, a plan began to crystallize in his mind.
“Jamal!” Liam yelled. Jamal’s imposing figure filled the doorway, the reddish-brown of his skin contrasting sharply with the sterile whiteness of the hospital corridor. He wore a simple suit today, a break from the austere ADA uniform, and Liam couldn’t help but notice how the change suited him. The tailored fabric draped elegantly over his broad shoulders, lending him an air of authority that was almost regal.
“Liam!” he said, his voice deep and rumbling, yet warm. “What’s going on?”
“Please tell Dr. Pearce to prepare her for transfer. We’re going back home,” Liam replied, a smile tugging at his lips. There was a lightness in his chest he hadn’t felt in weeks—a rare flicker of hope amid the heavy shadows of Azul.
Jamal nodded, his serious demeanor softening as he returned the smile, though it transformed his face into a mask of fierce intensity. The contrast between his cheerful expression and his menacing build could be jarring to anyone who didn’t know him, but Liam was well aware of the gentle heart that lay beneath the surface.
As Jamal closed the door behind him, Liam leaned back against the glass wall, feeling the weight of their prolonged stay in this godforsaken country lift just a little. He couldn’t wait to return to the warmth of home and the embrace of his lover, where the air was free of secrets and shadows.
But first, he had to ensure Nyla was safely out of there. This was just the beginning, and he was ready to face whatever storm lay ahead for the sake of the girl who had fought so hard to survive.
*********************************
Nyla groaned softly as she peeled her eyes open, the dim light of the moon casting eerie shadows around the room. Her throat felt as if it had been lined with sandpaper, and a dull throb pulsed through her temples. Everything around her was engulfed in darkness, save for a narrow strip of silvery light that sliced through the blinds, illuminating the contours of her unfamiliar surroundings.
She strained to remember how she had gotten here. Flashes of being moved on a gurney, the rattling of wheels over pavement, and the overwhelming sensation of being airborne flickered in her mind. And then there was that doctor, his relentless insistence on injecting her with drugs, leaving her feeling violated and powerless. She had half a mind to confront him when she got the chance—after all, wasn’t consent supposed to mean something?
With a determined grunt, she pushed herself into a sitting position, relieved to discover that her restraints had been removed. She scanned the shadowy corners of the room, searching for a light switch but finding nothing. Her cast weighed heavily on her leg, a constant reminder of her frailty, yet her mind buzzed with clarity, sharper than it had been in days. She needed to escape, to understand where she was now. Was this a different hospital, or just another room in the asylum she had been confined to?
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As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, ready to stand, a sudden awareness prickled at the back of her neck. She was not alone. A pair of piercing green eyes watched her from the shadows, observing her every move with an intensity that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
Alexander leaned against the cold concrete wall of the dimly lit room, the faint scent of iron lingering in the air from his recent encounter with the daemon and its vile seed. He had just finished cleaning up, his mind still racing with the memories of the struggle, when Liam’s voice crackled through the comms, snapping him back to reality.
The news about the girl caught him off guard. Surprised and somewhat relieved that she had survived, he couldn’t help but recall their brief interaction before everything spiraled out of control. Nyla had been so kind to him while he masqueraded as “Luke,” the orphan. How ironic that the very girl he had shared a fleeting connection with was now entangled in the dark web of their grim reality. Her accusations of murder had been a harsh blow, but he couldn’t hold it against her. She had been fighting for her life.
As Liam detailed his plan to smuggle Nyla out of Azul, Alexander nodded, already anticipating the complications ahead. The church had a firm grip on the narrative surrounding daemon attacks, erasing any trace of survivors to maintain the illusion that their god, Lux, was a protective force. It was a ruthless strategy that allowed them to dominate the continent, reinforcing the belief that the faithful would be spared from harm.
The ADA members were technically safe, but their status came at a steep price. Becoming an official member required years of grueling training, and even then, they were scrutinized relentlessly. The church kept meticulous records of their soldiers, tracking their movements and those of their fallen comrades. Any sudden influx of new recruits would raise alarm bells, and Alexander knew all too well that the church would not hesitate to eliminate perceived threats.
“Liam, this isn’t just about getting her out,” Alexander said, his voice low and steady. “We need to tread carefully. If we’re caught—if anyone finds out about her—there will be consequences, not just for us but for the entire ADA operation.”
Liam sighed on the other end, his frustration palpable. “I know that. But we can’t just leave her here to be silenced. She knows things, Alexander. Things that could change everything.”
A chill crept through Alexander’s spine. He understood the weight of Nyla’s knowledge. If she spoke of the twelve Watchmen and the world from which the daemons came, it could unravel the delicate threads of their carefully constructed narrative. But what if she held the key to solving their own dilemma?
Alexander’s mind raced. He pondered whether Nyla might be part of his special unit—the one that officially didn’t exist, a phantom force that the church wouldn’t dare mess with. He’d made sure of that years ago. Yet why would he feel compelled to help her? Sure, there was something distinctly peculiar about her, especially after witnessing the seed’s unusual behavior around her. But his ring hadn’t reacted to her in the slightest. He had tested her multiple times—just as he tested any individual who piqued his interest. So, there was no way she was the one he had been looking for.
Yet the possibility of this being an opportunity couldn’t be ignored. An opportunity to check off an item on his retirement plan checklist in Keerly Key, Vatia. The image of the white sandy beach, the blue-green ocean, and perfect weather danced in his mind—a paradise where he could finally laze around and do nothing. The cottage Liam had inherited from his grandfather had been a sore spot for him; he had been there when the late commander of the second division of ADA purchased it, only to spite him. That place could serve as his future haven.
To his surprise—and slight disappointment—Liam accepted his conditions quickly, offering no resistance, which Alexander had anticipated. Liam’s only stipulation was that Alexander would be the one to notify the executive board and secure their approval, a task Alexander accepted with a grin. Messing with Liam was always a pleasure, but annoying the old foxes on the board brought him even greater joy. It was these small victories that kept his spirit alive in this grim world.
As soon as he secured the deed to the cottage, he took the first flight back to their headquarters in Ublos. Upon arrival, he wasted no time intimidating the other executives, who sat in their high-backed chairs, pretending to be in control. Their eventual capitulation was sweet—signing the necessary paperwork to facilitate Nyla’s transfer.
Afterward, he found solace on the training ground of the second division, the familiar atmosphere helping to clear his mind. Emily, who was usually responsible for his unit’s paperwork (especially since Kain had managed to injure himself in yet another idiotic stunt), approached him with news of Liam and Nyla’s arrival. Initially, Alexander brushed off the report, thinking little of it. But as night fell and curiosity gnawed at him, he found himself drawn to her room.
Before he realized it, his feet had led him to stand over her bed, his shadow casting a dark shape across her still form. Nyla lay there, her features softened in the moonlight, a stark contrast to the turmoil she had endured. At that moment, Alexander felt an unfamiliar twinge of protectiveness—something he had not anticipated. The girl had become a potential pawn in his game, but could she also be a crucial ally?
He stood in the shadows, studying her with a gaze as sharp as the moonlight filtering through the window. Each rise and fall of Nyla’s chest sparked a torrent of thoughts in his mind—about the secrets she held and the chaos that had drawn him here. Just as he prepared to slip away, she stirred, and an unsettling wave of urgency washed over him. If Liam caught him lingering, he’d never hear the end of it. Instead, he decided to wait quietly hoping that girl would go back to sleep. But she didn’t. He looked at her struggling to get out of bed and almost falling.
“Stop, you’re going to fall…” The words slipped from his lips before he could think, his voice low and steady.
Nyla jumped out of her skin, hearing Alexander’s cold voice coming from the other side of the room. “Who’s there?” she shouted, squinting into the dimness, a captive bird looking for the source of the threat.
As a shadow crept closer, Alexander hesitated, then stepped into the moonlight. The moment their eyes locked, recognition transformed into sheer panic. Nyla screamed and stumbled away, her movements frantic, her heart racing against the cage of her chest. She jumped out of the bed running to the opposite side of the room, trying to get away from him as much as possible. Unfortunately, the side she walked on was not a side with a door.
“Please, be quiet!” he urged, advancing towards her, but she darted to the far wall, desperately seeking an escape. Alexander walked towards Nyla, baffled by her reaction, and amazed that she could run with her leg in a cast. Their last encounter was not pleasant, but it was not bad enough to cause such a reaction in his opinion. Nyla ignored him and continued screaming while looking for the door, hoping that someone might hear her and come to her rescue.
A door handle caught her frantic fingers. She grabbed the handle and pried it open with all her strength. Before she could fully open the door to exit, Alexander slammed it shut pinning her against the wall. His hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her cries, his other hand firm on her shoulder. “I told you to shut the hell up! You’re going to wake him up…” The words were harsh, but they held an undercurrent of urgency, for Liam’s room was perilously close. He even asked her politely to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake and find him here.
Nyla whimpered beneath his grip, and at that moment, he saw the flicker of terror in her eyes—fear that mirrored the darkness he’d always known. Up close he looked larger and more dangerous than before. His long black hair was dishevelled and there was a threatening glint in his green eyes. The arm that was on her mouth was covered in bandages it was starting to get wet with her tears. After Mathew’s death, Maryam used to tell her that death finds all of them and there is no way to hide from it. She couldn’t help but think that he had finally found her too. After all, wasn’t that the nature of their world? Death lurking around every corner.
“What the hell is going on, Alexander? You’re going to wake her… ?” Liam burst into the room hurriedly, flipping on the light like a sudden dawn. Behind him, Jamal stood poised, gun drawn, muscles tense and ready for a fight. Earlier the nurse in charge of the room had told him that their patient had a visitor. He decided to not bother Alexander about his sneakiness. His presence meant that no one in the organization would bother Nyla and he could finally have some peace and alone time with Jamal. They were just starting to enjoy their time together when a scream from down the hall disturbed them.
Nyla squeezed her eyes shut against the glare, and Alexander cursed under his breath, loosening his hold on her.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Liam’s voice cut through the air like a knife, his shock evident in his voice. Alexander let go of her completely. Nyla collapsed right where she was standing. As Alexander walked away, she started rubbing her eyes with her left hand trying to get her vision back. She could hear the new footsteps getting close to her and carefully opened her eyes which instantly filled with tears thanks to the bright light.
“Nothing. She woke up and started going crazy I was trying to help her…” Alexander shrugged, though the scene painted a grim picture. He stared at the gun targeted at him for a few seconds and then turned his gaze to its owner. Jamal seeing his gaze brought his gun down right away.
“HELP her? By choking her? She’s a patient for God’s sake… IS THAT BLOOD?!” Liam’s voice rose in disbelief, concern washing over his features as he examined the wound from her IV. Nyla instinctively flinched at his touch. She hadn’t noticed that she was bleeding.
“It’s alright, Nyla. You’re safe; I’m just trying to help you get up,” Liam reassured her, his tone softening as he reached out, grounding her in the moment. He sounded quite familiar. Nyla rubbed her eyes, blinking back tears as the brightness slowly revealed familiar shapes. She blinked a few times until a familiar face with caramel hair became focused. She stared at him with her mouth hanging open. What was he doing here?
“Gale, is that you?” she gasped, the shock echoing in her voice, relief threading through her as she reached for him.
With a gentle smile, Liam offered his hand, and as she took it, warmth flooded her chest, replacing the cold fear that had gripped her. In that moment, she felt a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos, a lifeline in the dark.
