☽ 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝔂 ☾

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

😉😉😉

No hesitation. No second chances. She dove forward and vanished through the tearing light as the portal snapped shut behind her, leaving only scorched air and stunned silence in its wake.

Kassandra staggered as the portal wavered, her vision dimming, the magic threatening to gutter out, to burn them 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ out. She forced it wider with a snarl, blood pounding in her ears.

The air screamed. Space tore open in front of her, a jagged of crackling light and shadow, unstable and shuddering like it might collapse at any second. The edges sparked and warped, reality fighting to knit itself back together.

She reached inward, past the pain, past the exhaustion, down into the wellspring she had never dared to fully touch since the turning, the one she was told would be weak, an echo of what it once was.

It answered her like a live wire—wild, furious, ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑦.

“I have to go,” she said suddenly. The men exchanged a glance. “Now wait a sec,” the blond started. “You need help. You need—” Kassandra didn’t listen.

When her nervous system had calmed enough for her brain to catch up, it all came rushing back.
𝐾𝑖𝑎𝑛.
Her pulse spiked so hard it hurt.
𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚.
Her breath stuttered as the image slammed into her—too clear, too sharp. He wouldn’t stop. Not now. Not when he was this close to winning.

“I’m fine,” she snapped—then caught herself. Her voice came out hoarse, scraped raw. “…Thank you.” The words tasted strange and unfamiliar.
She swayed anyway, the world still tilting, heat and smoke still clinging to her skin. The men watched her carefully, neither moving closer nor backing away.

When she felt steady enough to risk it, Kassandra pushed herself to her feet. The taller man stepped closer at once, hands lifted, ready to catch her if her legs gave out.
“Take it slow,” he said.

“We heard screaming, then saw the smoke.” The fire crackled behind them.

Kassandra stayed silent—listening, breathing, 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔.

She didn’t answer. She just stared at them both, chest rising and falling fast, eyes sharp and unblinking, weighing threats she was too tired to name.

Her chest still heaved as her eyes locked onto his face—familiar, somehow, but slippery like trying to remember someone through smoke and pain.
Another man crouched beside her. “Hey, wait. You’re the city girl from the bar,” he said, brows knitting together as recognition clicked into place.

“Easy,” a man said quickly, snapping his hand back in reflex. “Easy. You’re safe now. Breathe.” His voice was deep. Steady. Gentle in a way that didn’t demand anything.

Her head snapped up, instincts screaming. She surged to her knees, muscles coiling despite the exhaustion, ready to rip and tear the hand that was extending towards her. She snarled, expression that of a feral animal.

Smoke poured out behind her, fire roared somewhere inside. She coughed, hard, forehead pressed to the ground, fingers digging into the earth like it might anchor her.
Boots stepped into her vision. Dusty. Worn. One pair, then another.

She stumbled out of the inferno and collapsed onto cool, damp grass, the shock of it stealing a broken sound from her throat. She dragged in air greedily—clean, sharp, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙—each breath burning but blessed, her lungs shaking as they relearned how to work.

Cooler air rushed in and the world lurched. She didn’t wait to see who had opened the door, Kassandra bolted.

Muffled voices bled through the roar of the fire. “Move,” one said to the other. The word came sharp & urgent, then the door ripped open in the opposite direction. Metal screamed, hinges tore free with a violent shriek as the door was wrenched off its frame, flung aside like it weighed nothing.

Then... the knob twisted, but not from her side.
Kassandra froze. A jolt ran through her chest as pressure pushed back against the door, like someone trying to force it open from the other side. A shoulder slammed into it, wood splintering and metal groaning under the impact.

🥹 thank you it was so much more fun than taking the void photos

Her legs shook, barely holding her weight as she staggered to the door again and grabbed the knob with both hands.
She tugged. Once. Again. Again. Her grip slipped with sweat and blood, but she pulled anyway, over and over until her shoulders screamed.

“𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒!”

Kassandra collapsed to her knees. Smoke burned her lungs raw. The floor scorched through her clothes. For a heartbeat, she thought that was it, thought she was done.
𝑵𝒐. With a broken sound in her throat, she forced herself back up.

Her vision swam. Dizzy from exertion, dizzy from the thinning air.
Her strength bled away, breath coming shallow and frantic as the heat closed in. She was getting weaker. Her vision swam, doubled, the edges of the world blurring for the third time that night.

Minutes blurred together—five, maybe more—as she fought it like an animal. Kicking. Pulling. Slamming until every muscle in her body screamed, begged, burned.

Rage bled into the fear, wild and uncontrollable, and another scream tore from her throat. She kicked at the door, slammed her shoulder into it, pulled with everything she had. Nothing.

She slammed into the door & reached for the knob. White-hot pain exploded through her palm, metal searing her skin.
The frame had warped under the heat. Steel bent inward, twisted, fused to the door like it had been welded shut.
“No, no, no.” Panic surged as she yanked again. It didnt budge.

She ran.
Fire snapped at her heels, licked along her sleeves, threatened to turn her to ash as she barreled through the heat.
“I will not die here,” she murmured, over and over, the words breaking apart with each ragged breath.