In the middle of a blizzard, a virus, and a city-wide blackout, Ashley smiled. For once, Divina wasn't there to sabotage her plans or claw control away from her. Everything she had worked toward was finally unfolding exactly as she intended.

Snow hissed beneath every step. A trail of melted grass followed her through the blizzard while steam curled around her ankles.

She had still managed to trip twice.

Human bodies were fragile.

She hated living inside this one.

Gods shouldn't bruise.

Gods shouldn't bleed.

Gods certainly shouldn't be hit by cars.

She flexed her bruised hand until her knuckles cracked.

None of it mattered anymore.

She had ruptured the power plant herself. She had weakened the foundations of the tallest building until concrete split like bone.

The humans believed they could repair what she broke.

They believed systems and science would save them.

They were wrong.

When they died, they would belong to her.

"Can't even do anything to help with that stupid vision of yours," Divina taunted.

Ashley clenched her fists, but Divina's voice lingered in her mind. It wasn't just a whisper anymore—it was an echo, sharp and mocking, poking at every thought.

"Keep talking," Ashley said with a thin smile. "You're still not stopping me."

"I might not have to," Divina said.

Ashley paused, her boots crunched in the snow as she stepped into an empty field. The world around her was a blur of white, the snowflakes sticking to her lashes and making her already stupid vision even worse.

"What are you talking about?" Ashley snapped.

Divina's tone turned sly. "Imagine this—someone gains those powers. You'd be left looking like a squashed tomato."

"Yes, but you need a body," Ashley taunted.

Divina's smirk cut through the storm. "You can be so stupid sometimes. Haven't I told you I could have someone break in?"

Ashley's jaw tightened.

"Not with this storm," she growled.

There was nothing that Divina could do now that she had control over everything once again. That four-month period may have knocked her out, but nobody would stop her now.

He laughed, the sound curling around her mind. "Ah, but there are two paths: developed or created."

"We weren't made the same way," Ashley spat.

"Someone develops my powers or creates them," he said.

"They can't be created, idiot."

Divina laughed.

The laugh tore through her mind.

The world warped.

Twisted.

Folded inward like collapsing lungs.

Darkness swallowed everything—then even the darkness disappeared. No shapes. No shadows. No light. Sound vanished next.

There was only the void.

Ashley lifted her hand. It felt heavy. Immovable. The void fought her, pressing back against the motion.

"If someone is created, they can stop that storm," Divina sneered.

Ashley blinked.

There he was.

Divina's male illusion, standing in front of her.

His black hair was spiked to one side of his head, with his glowing blue eyes piercing into hers.

It was no longer that doodle that had tortured her endlessly, but a stupid illusion.

"You said you couldn't appear," Ashley growled.

Divina smirked, their expression smug. "To them," he snarled.

"You can't intervene, though."

Divina took a step toward her. "No, but I could talk to a human," he said mockingly. "I could tell them that they have to kill God. And, oh yeah—that we have to kill you."

Ashley reached.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

Cold panic settled in her stomach.

Divina was unpredictable, and she wasn't about to be tortured again.

"I'll be gaining full control of those mutant powers soon," Ashley snarled.

The humans around her had their own powers.

Soon, she would have those power.

When the time came, she'd use them to make Divina pay for everything it had done.

"I put you in a coma, and then you went and started all this danger—getting hit by a car twice," he pointed out, laughing. "When this human shows up, whether they fall from the sky or rise from the ground, this storm will be gone."

Ashley's lips curled into a sneer. "They won't be able to stop me. No one can."

Divina's hand shot forward. The impact cracked through the void. Pain exploded across Ashley's face. Blood splattered her cheek, bright against the nothingness.

"Yes," he hissed. "They can weaken you. Don't forget, we were created by that pulsar. Two different reasons."

Ashley wiped the blood with the back of her hand, as rage coiled her chest.

"No," she spat, teeth clenched. "I was created by stupid humans."

That was her true creation. She wasn't something formed in the ditch some ugly girl happened to stumble on.

She was a god.

"You're some ugly purple goo you'd find in the trash," he taunted.

"You can't convince the dead to join you," Ashley said with a smirk.

Divina laughed cunningly at her. "Oh, please. I don't need people to do my dirty work because I can't see. I've grown, evolved—while you seeped through those ditches. We're both fallen stars from space. I'm the earth, and you're the sky. When that human arrives, they'll be in control. Even if they are stupid, I'm the earth. You just got the opportunity from some stupid human."

Divina caught her nose between her fingers.

Twist.

Crack.

Pain flooded under her skull before a scream could escape.

She clutched her nose as tears welled in her eyes.

She smiled through blood.

"I'm still stronger than you."

"You've been hit by a car twice in a span of four days."

He leaned in closer, his tone mocking.

"You can't control those little games on me."

His fingers tightened around Ashley's neck.

Blood trickled down.

Ashley clawed at his wrist.

Air refused to come.

"Not..."

She forced the words out.

"Stopping..."

"Are we back to god and goddess? I enjoyed being called Divina. Humans can call me Divina. You can stick with that stupid name, Ashley," he sneered.

Divina's fist crashed into her jaw.

Her teeth clicked together.

White exploded across her vision.

Ashley fell onto her back, hitting the cold ground, and was blinded by falling snow.

She looked around and realized that she was no longer in Divina's atmosphere.

She heard his laugh linger in her mind.

One of her followers helped her to her feet, trembling as they touched her. Ashley barely noticed. Her blood boiled hotter than the storm she unleashed.

Divina wasn't a person anymore.

Just a voice.

He was something forged from another collapsing star that had birthed her.

Two fragments of a cosmic corpse that had fallen to Earth.

They were shooting stars.

And no one could ever know.

If they knew that fighting her weakened the storm, she'd be at a disadvantage. Fewer people would die, and more would want her dead.

Nobody could kill her until Divina made a grand entrance.

She smiled.

The snow kept falling.

As long as no one learned the truth, the storm would keep burying the world.

The cold of the house bit into Cindy's skin as she huddled against the wall, hr knees pulled to her chest.

It was silent.

She and Esme had barely escaped the chaos at the power plant, their bodies scraped and bruised after their fight with Luke.

She pulled her arms tighter around herself and glanced toward Emma, who sat slouched by a candle. Bryce had joined her after River had left with Mia and Nevaeh.

Her thoughts drifted to Melany. Since her sister's death, nothing had felt the same. Numbness had taken over her.

She hadn't meant to hurt Emma, but she couldn't deny she'd brushed her off.

"No more crying today," Bryce said, giving Emma's cheeks a gentle squeeze.

Emma didn't flinch, but rubbed one raw eye and sniffed. Cindy watched, unsure if it was real or just a way to make him stop teasing.

Bryce tipped Emma's chin up with two fingers, flashing that familiar sly grin.

Emma's cheeks seemed to flush darker.

Cindy could see that he liked teasing Emma, but underneath it, he genuinely really cared, even if he hid it behind that cool attitude.

She fiddled with the corner of her bandage, peeling it back slightly. Part of her didn't feel guilty for exposing the truth about Greyson, but her stomach churned.

What happened to the girl she used to be? The one who cared about others, who didn't shrug off their feelings? Somewhere along the way, she felt herself becoming Scarlett or Greyson.

When Bryce finally left the room, Cindy slowly stood against the wall. She had so much to say to Emma, but the words felt tangled.

She stepped into the dim room where two candles were glowing on a side table.

"Are you still injured?" Emma's voice cracked.

"No," Cindy said flatly. "I was angry when I told you about being used."

Emma's gaze dropped. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her."

Cindy's jaw tightened.

"I meant Luke," she said sharply.

Emma's red-rimmed eyes peeked from under her bangs. She looked like she'd been crying for days.

Cindy's fingers curled in fists. Every blink dragged her back to Melany—her sister's last breath echoing in her mind. Revenge had rooted itself in her bones, giving her a cold edge and keeping others at arm's length.

"It's wasn't exactly revenge," Cindy said coldly. "But we did get his arm."

Apologizing felt like choking on gravel.

Just to Emma.

Bella?

Not even if the world ended.

"I shouldn't have left you alone in the infirmary," Cindy admitted. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Emma whispered.

"I'm still not going back there."

She couldn't—not after everything. The stabbing, the blood, Melany taking a bullet to protect her. Each memory burned brighter when she thought of the infirmary.

Just then, Esme appeared in the room. "Emma wouldn't blame you," she said. "She'd blame herself."

Emma froze with her eyes wide. "No, no, no!" she stammered.

Esme sped to grab Emma's ankle. With a playful grin, Esme spun her around the room like a rag doll.

"I'm going," Cindy muttered, already stepping back.

"Check the power plant," Esme called after her.

Cindy didn't answer. She just clenched her jaw and bopped out of the room.

The power plant was pitch-black. The air stun of burnt plastic.

She pressed a hand against the cold wall, squinting through the darkness.

A single flashlight lay on the floor, its beam flickering toward a jagged hole in the wall.

She crept down the stairs, every step deliberate, her pulse hammering. The silence pressed in on her. Something was wrong—it was too quiet.

Back at Esme's house, Cindy landed on the carpeted floor. "I need a flashlight," she said.

Without a word, Esme handed her one. Cindy clicked it on. The beam cut through the darkness like a shard of ice.

She scanned the floor slowly, the beam trembling slightly in her grip.

Something bloody caught the light.

A hand.

Half-buried under debris.

She stopped breathing without meaning to.

She didn't move at first and just stared.

Then she stepped forward.

Once.

Twice.

Her stomach twisted as her eyes landed on a blonde head sprawled across the floor. For a heartbeat, she thought it was Bella.

She dropped to her knees beside James, her hands trembling violently as she touched his temple. His glasses were crooked, blood seeping down his cheek.

She grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "James!"

No response.

Her eyes darted around the room, looking for clues. That's when she noticed it—a broken pipe, its surface slick with frost, and shards of ice scattered across the floor.

She didn't touch it.

That was where the main source of the smell came from. She didn't have a clue how mechanical things worked, especially in a large building that controls electricity.

"Breathe, Cindy," she whispered the words to herself, her heart racing.

Turning sharply, she spotted another body—this one with a hand twitching faintly.

Without hesitation, she rushed over.

At first, she couldn't tell who it was. She dropped to her knees, shaking the body gently at first, then more urgently when there was no response.

"Hey, wake up!" She called out, her voice tinged with desperation.

The figure groaned and shot a hand out, sending her skidding backward.

She stumbled, her back hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Pain flared in her back, but she stood.

She fumbled for the flashlight at her side and aimed the beam at the figure's face.

The light revealed Greyson.

He squinted against the brightness, his eyebrows knitting together as he shielded his eyes with his hand.

"What happened?" He seemed surprised at how raspy his voice sounded.

"Well, it seems most of you are unconscious," Cindy stated. "I came here to see if Luke had died yet."

"That's what happened," Greyson hissed as his eyes seemed to widen. "Do you know where Scarlett is?"

Cindy furrowed her eyebrows together. "I only saw James and you, plus someone's hand," she pointed.

Greyson stumbled slightly, a thin trail of blood running down his cheek. The two of them stood in front of a massive piece of machinery that had collapsed, crushing at least two people.

"Who's under it?" he asked, but Cindy shrugged.

Greyson lifted his hand.

The machinery groaned. Metal screamed against the concrete as it peeled inch by inch slowly.

His arm shook and blood ran down his cheek.

Then, with a sharp flick, he threw it.

Dust rolled across.

Then the shapes formed in the haze.

Two bodies.

Her stomach dropped before her brain caught up.

Scarlett and Jason.

"Oh my god," they gasped, rushing over.

Cindy knelt beside Scarlett, pressing two fingers to her neck to check her pulse. "She has a pulse," she said.

Scarlett's head was a mess of blood and torn skin. No obvious breaks, but enough blood to turn her stomach.

Cindy flashed the light at Greyson, who had tears down his cheeks. Strange, but she didn't say anything.

She put two fingers on Jason's neck; his pulse had been so faint that she barely felt it.

"Can you do something?" Greyson's voice cracked.

Cindy nodded, heart racing. "Help me get Scarlett up. I just came from Emma's."

Greyson held up his palm as Scarlett rose carefully in the air, blood dripping from her arms and legs.

He lowered her body onto Cindy's back, draping an arm around her neck.

He turned away from her.

"I'm going to kill Luke."

A pause.

"And I mean that."

"I'll bring her back when she's healed," Cindy said, bopping away and landing in the living room.

"What happened?" Emma rushed over.

Cindy set Scarlett's body slowly on the ground. It was a mess of blood and bruises, her breathing shallow.

"Greyson never said. Everyone is injured or unconscious," Cindy explained.

Emma stared in horror at Scarlett's bloody body. Despite Scarlett and Greyson hurting Emma, she placed a hand on Scarlett's head.

"Bryce, I need a rag!" Emma exclaimed.

Bryce came in with a wet rag and stared, shocked by the sight.

"Whoa," he said, looking down at Scarlett's body.

"She and Jason had some huge machinery on them," Cindy said, her eyes widening. "I'll grab Jason."

She grabbed the flashlight and bopped where Jason's body lay, unconscious and battered. Blood streaked the right side of his face, and two of his fingers were bent at unnatural angles.

"You screwed up, Luke." Cindy heard Greyson's voice filled with fury.

Cindy groaned as she hoisted Jason onto her back, his weight digging into her shoulders. Her legs trembled as she focused on bopping. The room spun slightly, and she landed hard on the floor, wincing.

"Scarlett looks worse than him," Esme remarked.

"I'll heal Scarlett's head, then move on to Jason," Emma said.

"Should I search for more injured people?" Cindy asked.

"Jade's supposed to be there," Esme implied.

"I didn't see her," Cindy said, watching Emma's face grow nauseous.

Emma's lips were pressed into a tight line. "There's no skin on the back of her neck," she murmured.

"Probably from the machinery Greyson removed," Cindy said. "Do you have bandages?"

Esme sped away, rummaging for some white gauze in the bathroom.

Cindy grabbed a rag from the ground, its fabric stiff with dried blood, and began cleaning the area around Jason's head.

She did it quickly, wiping away the blood before wrapping gauze snugly around his head. She tucked the end under his ear, securing it in place.

Bryce pressed his hands into his sweatpants pockets, staring at Jason with a smirk. "So, who's gonna tell the housewife he is hurt?"

"I'm going to find Jade and bring back James," Cindy said, bopping away.

She ducked around machinery, her eyes darting around the dark space. She couldn't spot Greyson and Luke anywhere. She grabbed James, slinging his arm over her shoulder, and bopped to the living room.

Greyson might be carrying out the act she can't do herself, but he's also returning a favour. Unless he's doing it just for Scarlett's sake, Cindy wouldn't be surprised.

After all, Greyson only thought about himself or Scarlett.

She shuffled quietly toward the left corner of the room, her boots scraping against the icy floor. She found Jade's body knocked out cold with ice clinging tightly to Jade's limbs.

Cindy braced a foot against the floor, yanked, and barely got her to budge.

No way she could teleport like this, unless she broke the ice first.

She lifted her boot and brought it down.

Nothing.

Again.

A crack.

The ice barely broke.

Cindy gritted her teeth and hit harder, the sound echoing loudly.

Slowly, Jade's gloved hands began to free themselves.

Cindy grabbed her arm and pulled, but the icy grip held firm.

She teleported back.

"That's everyone for now," Cindy breathed, sitting against the wall.

"Did Lukey die?" Esme asked, seeming eager.

"No," Cindy said quietly. "He's still out there."

Esme knelt beside Jade, checking her breathing before wrapping her in a blanket. "She's just out cold," she said, relieved.

Bryce glanced over. "And Greyson?"

"He's hurt, but he's not leaving," Cindy replied. "He's going to kill Luke."

Just saying his name brought a pulse of anger through her.

Luke was the one who'd nearly blinded her, and who killed Melany.

Her fists clenched. This wasn't just revenge anymore. It was something deeper, sharper.

"You're not really gonna let him do that alone, are you?" Esme asked.

Cindy hesitated. "We'll go. Just... quietly."

Esme grinned. "I can be quiet. Mostly."

Cindy rolled her eyes. The thought of facing Luke again made her stomach twist, but she needed to see it end. Justice or payback—maybe both.

Bryce tossed her a roll of gauze. "Before you go, fix up James. He's breathing weird."

Cindy knelt beside him. "Fine," she murmured, wrapping the bandage around his temple as gently as she could.

His glasses were cracked, but his pulse felt steady.

As she began to tend James's other wounds, she noticed that his right wrist was limp, flopping unnaturally to the side.

"His wrist is dislocated," she said, lightly grabbing one of his fingers and holding it up.

"Great..." Emma whispered and ran a hand over her face.

"We could always get Hanna. Or should we get Mark or Zane to come help?" Esme rambled, using hand gestures.

"I'll focus on Jason next. I'd inform Bella," Emma mumbled.

"Which one of us will she yell at?" Bryce snarked.

Cindy didn't want them to actually tell Bella. At this point, she was pretty sure Bella would either lock Jason in a closet or purposely make more excuses.

"Let's go, Esme," Cindy said, grabbing her wrist and landing on the staircase. "We're going to watch a fight."

Cindy wanted to fight, but Greyson wouldn't let them do that. He had already thrown her back when she had woken him up. All she wanted was to see Luke die.

Greyson would never forget the moment Luke hurled the hammer. It cut through the air and slammed into a thick metal pipe running along the floor.

CRACK!

The pipe split in two, pressurized steam bursting from the fracture with a violent hiss. The shockwave of escaping steam knocked them all off balance, sending bodies and debris flying across the room.

Then, everything went dark.

Luke's reckless throw hadn't just hit a pipe. It

had destroyed their power main.

And in the middle of a blizzard, that meant only one thing: death.

"I intended for the hammer to knock out Jason," Luke started. "And Scarlett was a bitch anyway."

"You screwed up, Luke," Greyson taunted, holding one palm toward him.

They stood in the middle of the large building. Smoke lingered in the air, and debris littered the floor. Greyson's head throbbed, but that didn't matter right now.

"Listen," Luke began, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I wasn't aiming for the pipe. I was aiming to hit Jason when he cowardly ran away."

Greyson's eyes flickered to a jagged length of pipe lying among the wreckage.

His hand shot out, seizings the pipe with an invisible force.

A sharp crack echoed as the pipe bent and split further under his grip.

Luke didn't even realize what he destroyed.

The main line was gone.

No electricity.

No furnace.

No running water.

By tomorrow, this building would be an icebox.

Greyson aimed the pipe directly at Luke, where he wouldn't miss.

"You ruined the ambush and prevented electricity," Greyson hissed. "Do you expect me to forgive you?"

"Punish me, but don't kill me," Luke begged.

Greyson planted his feet firmly, feeling the floor tremble under the residual shock of steam and debris. The room was silent, save for the distant hiss of escaping steam and the howling storm outside.

"You screwed up," he repeated.

Luke's face went pale. "You wouldn't..."

Greyson stared at him.

Luke had been useful.

Not anymore.

"I would," he spat.

He thrust both hands forward. The jagged pipe shot forward across the room like a spear. With a flick of his wrist, he corrected its course.

It struck Luke square in the chest, hurling him backward into the concrete wall. His body folded on the impact before collapsing on the floor.

Greyson approached, squinting against the light through the large hole. Luke's head rested at an unnatural angle, a deep gash marring his forehead.

It was better having him dead.

Greyson took one step before his knees buckled. He caught himself against the wall, blinking until the room stopped spinning.

He reached down to grab the small flashlight rolling across the floor.

Suddenly, a faint squeak broke the silence.

"Come out," he snapped. "Luke's already dead."

Esme burst into the room, barbed wire contraption in her hand, speeding past him. She skidded to a stop near Luke's dead body on the ground before groaning.

"Damn it!" Esme shouted. "He got him, Cindy!"

Greyson snapped his eyes at Cindy, who stood near Luke's body with crossed arms.

"Did you expect me to leave him helpless?" Greyson spat.

"You're wrapping him with barbed wire?" Cindy asked dryly.

Greyson glared back at them as Esme rushed around to wrap Luke's body in it.

"I wanted to be part of it. After all, I'm the fastest," Esme gloated.

Greyson was too drained to argue. Tightening his grip on the railing, he climbed the stairs with unsteady steps.

Everything around him seemed in ruins, with machines knocked over and ice forming across the ground.

"Wait, you're just leaving?" Esme called and came speeding to the bottom of the stairs.

"No, I'm just going to play in the snow," he dryly said, rolling his eyes at her. "There's no point staying. I can't get the power back."

"Is it because that pipe broke?" Cindy questioned.

"So, no heat, water, or anything?" Esme inquired.

Greyson didn't want to shake his head, but he felt his head getting dizzy. Half his plan had worked out—Luke wasn't around to slow him down anymore. The next stop was the mansion that Preston had discovered.

Jason could deal with the rest of his dirty work. The mansion might have everything needed, but Greyson wasn't about to leave everything to chance. He'd leave the thugs to stay back and do the dirty work.

First, he had to make sure Scarlett survived. His eyes stung, and he blinked hard, forcing the image of her broken body from his mind.

"So, what are you going to do?" Cindy asked.

"Get healed," he grumbled.

"Emma's got a lot of people to heal," Esme explained.

"Do you want me to just bop you there?" Cindy asked.

He didn't answer.

He turned toward the blown-open entrance, pulled his scarf over his face, and stepped into the blizzard.

Wind slammed into him immediately.

Through the blowing snow, he spotted SUV and made a beeline for it.

The keys were right in the cup holder once he got in.

He slid into the driver's seat, the calmness of the car a relief.

The rear door clicked shut.

Greyson whipped around.

Preston slowly faded into in the back seat, shivering.

"How many times have I said not to sneak up on me?" Greyson snapped.

"I can't feel my head," Preston murmured.

Greyson flicked his hand, causing Preston to hit his head on the seat. "You will be quiet," he barked.

He cranked the SUV to life and the engine growled.

He shifted into reverse and backed through the deep snow.

As he forced it through the drifts of snow, exhaustion clawed at him.

Four days.

Four days wasted.

And Luke had destroyed everything in less than five seconds.

"Where's that island?" Greyson snapped.

"South of Wasaga and in the middle of the lake," Preston murmured. "It's a private island. There's a mansion there—River Dunlop used to live in it."

Greyson snapped his eyes back to glance at Preston. "He knows where the island is?" he asked. "Where is he?"

"Uden Academy. I think he went back with Mia and Nevaeh," Preston said.

"You'll be coming," Greyson stated. "The leader wants to go on vacation."

"Are we going to the island?" Preston mumbled.

"Jason can play mayor."

Greyson shifted gears.

"Now he gets to clean up the town."

All of this would add up perfectly well together. If that place had electricity, it'd be like going to Hawaii or even Mexico for a luxury vacation, just as he did one summer.

"Jason can deal with his stupid sister," Greyson spat.

It had all been going according to what he knew. Even with a food shortage, they could deal with their own problems.

"After Scarlett and I are healed, we're going to Uden. Then we find River."

One moment of celebration for Greyson killing Luke! I'm sure many of you are thrilled.

Don't forget to comment and vote!
-Lexi