Greyson scanned the plaza, noting the crowd that had gathered. River stood at the centre, his body emitted a steady glow, while Scarlett remained at Greyson's opposite side.

They eventually made it back to town, only to deal with unnecessary problems.

"I won't be surprised if those four interrupt your speech," Scarlett snickered, scanning the crowd.

"They won't," he said, not even bothering to look. "I've heard about all the misfortunes that plagued Simcoe. I'm sure it's been quite difficult."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. Some faces nodded slowly, while others exchanged uneasy glances. Greyson could feel the discontent like static in the air. Now was his moment to shift the tide.

"I've had warmth, food, clean water," Greyson began, his voice carrying across the plaza. "Meanwhile, I hear my own brother abandoned you."

"He left us! No one knew what to do!" someone shouted from the middle of the crowd.

"He's back in town!" another voice rang out.

Greyson's grin widened. "Brother, why don't you come forward and face the people you left behind?"

Gasps and low whispers ripped through the crowd as Jason appeared at the far edge of the plaza, moving reluctantly. His scowl deepened as he approached the steps.

"Turn around," Greyson said.

He didn't raise his voice—he didn't need to.

Jason paused at the bottom step, his jaw tightening before slowly turning to face the crowd.

"They kicked me out of Simcoe," Greyson declared. "I didn't get a choice. So, here it is. Let me back in, or the next storm finishes what the last one started."

A ripple of uncertainty swept the crowd.

"How can we trust you?" someone called out.

Greyson spread his hand. "Do you see any other choice?"

His eyes caught movement as someone came forward. It was Emma with her lips pressed together. She hesitated for a moment, then turned to the crowd.

"We have to," Emma began. "Ashley wants to kill us and this is the only option."

Greyson's eyes scanned the crowd, watching nods grow. "Who will stop that insane thing if I'm not here to fight it? You don't trust me. Fine. Then pick me or him."

His only goal was to rally these desperate people on his side. Emma's voice gave him the opening he needed, turning doubt into reluctant hope.

"Jason and I don't like each other, just like his people don't like mine," Greyson admitted, placing a hand on his chest. "And as the healer who's saved most of you, shouldn't you believe her words?"

"Good choice."

Of course, it was a great choice. He was thinking of the best solution until that deranged thing attacked. It was the best method because there wasn't any other way in this situation, especially with whatever freak stopped the storm.

"You can switch sides whenever you want," Greyson declared. "But this doesn't change."

Greyson flicked a finger.

Jason was yanked off his feet and slammed onto his back.

"Yes," he spat, gritting his teeth.

"Perfect," Greyson said, clapping his hands once.

"Make the right decision."

Greyson's grin stretched side as he turned to Scarlett. "I got exactly what I wanted."

"We're still in the dark," Scarlett said dryly, crossing her arms.

"We'll have people gather lighters, flashlights, and lanterns," he said. "See, everything will be fine." He kissed her quickly.

"Shouldn't you say those three words she said?"

Greyson's eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd. How could that voice possibly know that Scarlett had told him she loves him?

"I can read your memories," the voice whispered. "We're connected. That's how I learn—your words, your thoughts, your emotions... your world."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

Greyson frowned. "Can someone read memories?" he asked, but she shook her head. "Then why is that voice saying it can read mine?"

"I don't know. Doesn't telepathy do that?" Scarlett said.

"You are aware of me, but you can't see me. Daddy, when I'm born into the world, we'll work together."

Greyson froze.

Daddy.

His eyes flickered toward Scarlett before he immediately dismissed the thought.

Impossible.

Why was the voice calling him that? No child can talk in the womb, and Scarlett isn't pregnant either.

"Emma!" Greyson called.

She jumped at his voice and turned to look at him.

"Why is there a voice in my head?"

He descended the church steps.

Emma bit her lip. "I don't think you heard," she said quietly. "Someone here is carrying a mutant child. Apparently, it talks to someone before it's even born."

Greyson's eyes narrowed. "What type of powers?"

"Telepathy, deflection, and telekinesis."

Three powers before birth.

Greyson mentally listed all the mutants he knew.

Could the child have more abilities hidden beneath the surface?

"Divina said it will be stronger than Ashley and it combined," Emma started. "No one knows the rank or who the mother is."

Greyson's gaze sharpened. "Are these facts true?"

Emma nodded slowly. "It's supposed to have even more powers when it's born. And Ashley wants it dead."

Greyson clenched his fists. He wouldn't let Ashley kill that child after hearing about its powers. Its mystery and potential fascinated him.

Scarlett walked over, her eyebrows drawn together. For a brief second, her hand brushed her stomach before dropping back at her side.

"Ashley wants the baby dead?" she asked.

"Since the baby stopped the storm, Ashley hasn't been able to cause it again. But, the baby can't stop the darkness."

Stopping the storm would put the baby at a medium rank. If that was true, Greyson knew he had to uncover the full extent of its powers before it was born.

"Is it controlling me?" he snapped.

"It wants to learn, so when it's born, it can help stop Ashley."

This baby was intelligent—like him—constantly seeking strategies to overcome obstacles and execute plans. If it could devise a plan to stop Ashley, it would be invaluable ally.

"That's all I know," she whispered.

Greyson smirked and turned to Scarlett. "It's determined," he stated.

"Don't do anything stupid."

Reckless? No.

Everything he did was deliberate, built on intelligence and knowledge. Which was exactly why that mysterious voice spoke to him in the first place.

Greyson smiled.

"Then I'll wait."

Whatever this child was he'd find it before Ashley did.

Suddenly, Uden Academy's crackheads came running through the crowd, half-dressed.

"I'm not dealing with them," Greyson spat, turning on his heel and going to a group of his own followers.

No matter what Ashley planned next, he'd stop it.

From her spot near the edge of the bustling plaza, Cindy listened to Greyson's speech. The felt thick with tension as the crowd split between two brothers who would probably never get along. It reminded her of a game of dodgeball—people scrambling, choosing sides, deciding who they were willing to stand with.

Cindy scanned the crowd, trying to tell who was actually making a choice and who was simply ogling over Mia in a revealing tank top over her bra. She didn't know why the crackheads were doing this in the first place, but she didn't want to ask.

"Who are you going to choose?" Nevaeh asked.

Cindy shrugged. "I haven't thought about it."

"I'm siding with Jason," Nevaeh said with a grin. "I want to hear all that baby gossip."

Cindy raised an eyebrow. "Are you even sure Scarlett's going on Jason's side?"

"I heard it from her mind," Nevaeh  said with a casual shrug. "Plus, Jason is mourning the loss of his dear housewife."

"You think I'm planning something?" Cindy shot back.

Nevaeh tilted her head slightly. "Maybe," Nevaeh said slyly.

It wasn't that Cindy wanted to manipulate Jason—it was that Bella had wrapped him so tightly around her finger he couldn't even see it.

Cindy remembered how she used to panic over her feelings, but now, she could act openly on them.

"I've had to put my own feelings on hold," Cindy snapped, her arms crossed.

"Just pull a Mia," Nevaeh said.

Cindy glanced over at Mia, who was sprawled across a nearby snowbank, lazily carving out snow angels.

"No," Cindy grumbled.

"It's going to be interesting to watch a mourning soldier lead," Nevaeh mused. "Zane's probably going to step up."

"Maybe I'll give it a shot," Cindy muttered under her breath, turning away and heading toward where Jason stood with Zane and Esme.

"We could move people through one of the cars," Zane suggested.

"You aren't looking well," Cindy said, her eyes scanning over Jason's tired face.

Jason looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders sagged, and even standing upright seemed to take effort. Greyson's return was unraveling him more than he cared to admit.

"I can just run and bring someone there," Esme offered, bouncing lightly on her toes.

"Some people are out searching for seeds," Zane said. "We think the mutant child might melt the snow soon."

He paused.

"Mark sending his group out to try ice fishing."

Cindy tapped Jason's shoulder lightly.

She waited for him to look at her.

He looked like her might break.

It wasn't that he had ever tried to be the hero—he was just now realizing that he couldn't hold everything together anymore.

"So you want to rest for a bit?" she asked.

When he gave a small nod, she didn't hesitate.

The scenery changes.

One moment they stood in the middle of the plaza.

The next she was in her silent house.

Gently, she guided him to the living room sofa and sat down across from him, watching as his exhaustion seemed to settle deeper in his frame.

Jason ran a hand over his face. "Greyson comes back, Bella leaves... and I'm just supposed to hold everything together?"

Cindy flinched at the rawness in his voice. The chaos since Melany's death has hardened them both.

Jason was buried under responsibility.

Cindy was buried under grief.

Neither had anywhere to turn.

"Everyone expected me to step up after Melany died," Cindy said bitterly. "But I didn't. I couldn't."

"You were stabbed, and she was shot," Jason murmured, the words heavy with guilt.

"It's fine," Cindy spat, though her voice trembled slightly. "Luke's dead and I saw it happen. Even if he was one of Ashley's followers, Esme sliced him up and buried his body."

Jason's voice was barely above a whisper. "Bella left me with nothing but a letter. It's not just that she's gone—she says she wants to change."

Cindy wasn't surprised. She remembered Bella before this all started. She was always surrounded by people, and wanting people's attention. It was probably one of the main reasons she got jealous so easily.

"Maybe it's for the best," she said.

"It just feels weird," Jason remarked, rubbing the back of his neck. "When you lose someone."

"Yeah," she mumbled.

Losing someone left a hollow ache—one that twisted into anger and irritation, refusing to fade no matter how long time passed. That's been Cindy's constant companion—this storm of emotions. Yet beneath her guarded exterior, beneath the walls of bitterness, kindness still lingered quiet.

Just like Scarlett, who masked her moral compass under that mocking and cruel demeanour, Cindy understood that deep down, there was a fierce determination to protect, especially when it came to the mutant child.

Scarlett and Greyson had used Emma's loyalty and ability for their own advantage, weaving her into their plans without regard to her feelings. Yet, despite their manipulation, Emma's commitment to protect the child remained unshaken.

Cindy's stomach tightened.

Ashley wanted the baby dead.

That alone was enough to make her feel sick.

It wasn't just for the child, but Scarlett too. They weren't just protecting a newborn; they were protecting a target that could spark more chaos.

"Now you're going to be an uncle," Cindy said dryly.

"Greyson probably doesn't know Scarlett is carrying it," Jason murmuring. "Who knows how long it will take."

Cindy wasn't convinced it would take that long. Nothing about the mutant child seemed normal, and Scarlett symptoms had started earlier than usual.

Jason let out a heavy sigh, collapsing back on the couch. "I can't deal with it all," he admitted, flopping his head against it.

"Superheroes can't do everything," Cindy remarked. "We all wish we could have saved something."

Melany's death, Ilya's overdose, and Emma's emotional breakdown were some of the main ones. There were probably at least one hundred kids who died during the storm, or even some who died at the hands of Ashley.

Cindy's new vow was to live for Melany and protect that baby. If Melany were alive, she'd be attempting to help Scarlett with the baby. However, it might be doubtful if Scarlett wants help with her child. Cindy knew there were books around to understand it all, along with names for the child.

"Yeah," Jason murmured. "Do you have any idea why Bella just left like that?"

Cindy shook her head. "Not a clue. No one is close to her."

It was no secret Bella wanted Jason all to herself—no helping others or anything, just being egotistical, which is why many thought she was being annoying. Cindy didn't think someone would use someone in such a way, but some of the people at Uden Academy may be crazy, like Eden or Luke.

"She got like that after Teagan died," Jason whispered.

"Selfish." Cindy spat bitterly, her arms crossed. "She shouldn't have used you the way she did."

"Can I sleep here?" he mumbled.

Jason shifted into an awkward position on the couch while Cindy sat nearby.

She went into the back room, flipping through a stack of her dad's medical books, unsure what would even help. Her stomach twisted at the thought of Scarlett giving birth—she barely understood half the words.

"Okay... I guess this is how I learn," she muttered.

She carried the thick medical book back to the couch.

The first page was filled with diagrams.

"Seriously?"

Her face twisted.

She almost shut the book, but she turned the page instead.

She would learn—no matter how uncomfortable it made her—because this baby had to be safe.

Emma could never handle helping give birth, and Hanna wouldn't have a clue. Even if it twisted her stomach to read about it all, she had to learn.

Stick blinked into the heavy darkness, his eyes slowly adjusting to the cabin. Eden and Bella were gone. The silence confirmed it. He pressed a trembling hand against his throbbing forehead.

Had Eden drugged him?

He pushed himself upright, muscles aching, and strained his eyes in the blackness. He stretched his hands through the darkness, fingertips scraping the walls until he found a door.

He couldn't remember the past few hours. The last thing he recalled was Bryce, Esme, and Emma leaving the cabin.

The crushing loneliness pressed down on him. Henry was dead, and none of the thugs from Uden Academy would be coming to save him now.

Feeling the rough handle, he pulled it open and stepped outside. Footprints crisscrossed in various directions, some headed towards the town while others veered off to the unknown.

He kept his gaze fixed on the ground as he made his way back to town. The air was brisk but tolerable.

"Wonder where Bella went?" he asked himself.

Maybe Eden had been right. Bella thought she was making her own choices, but perhaps she was using Jason without realizing it.

Stick couldn't judge her. He'd used people too, chasing popularity in school.

In terms of parties, he and Bella were similar to Mia and Will from Uden Academy—just not in the chaotic way the two are.

Stick had liked Bella once, but that was long ago. Back then, he dated girls for attention. Then The Bubble changed everything.

Now Scarlett had taken Bella's place for anyone who hadn't known Bella before.

Scarlett wasn't the gorgeous girl people usually imagined. She wasn't interested in popularity. She either created her own schemes for personal leverage or went along with Greyson's plans.

Now, Stick wasn't the person he'd expected to be. Not just from being a murderer but from losing that popularity.

In The Bubble, being popular meant performance in saving or leading. Having the supernatural powers gifted by Ashley in this bubble.

Stick looked at the town sign, and he hadn't realized how long the walk had been. He wandered through the dark streets, needing to find someone.

Ached in his chest, he craved alcohol, desperate to numb the pain and drown his sorrows. Yet another part of him reached toward God, searching for peace and a chance of forgiveness.

A shape materialized from the darkness, gliding toward him. His heart hammered. The figure was ethereal, almost translucent, hair spilling like inked shadows. Its eyes gleamed with malice, a sly grin twisting its features.

It was Divina. The doodle that should never have come to life.

Diviva smirked. "You're the alcoholic," he sneered. "The religious God will forgive you, but not the god here."

"What are you doing?" Stick asked.

Divina's eyes glowed in the dark. "The child," he whispered. "Is coming into the world soon. It will be stronger than anyone alive. But it's in danger. You are the only one who can protect its mother."

Stick blinked, confusion twisting his stomach. "Why me? I don't know the mother."

"You do," Divina said, pressing a finger to his forehead.

In his mind, Scarlett appeared with a smirk on her lips.

"She trusts no one, but she must survive. If she does, so does hope. And God will claim the child before it can even learn its strength."

Stick shook his head, taking a step back. "I'm not a protector. I killed someone."

"If you ever want the light back, it will grant it," Divina explained. "I can't tell you much about their powers because there may be spies. It gets you all one step closer to destroying God."

"How can I protect it?" Stick asked.

"You track down the mother," Divina said, eyes glowing. "Help anyone seeking to protect the mutant child. God wants it dead. I need it alive."

A pause.

"I won't control the baby. It needs to understand God is the evil one."

"Not me," Stick muttered, eyeing the dark snow.

He couldn't understand why Divina had chosen him. He isn't the father; in fact, he felt unqualified for such a responsibility.

"It will be part of redemption," Divina said with a grin.

Stick was filled with uncertainty. He knew protecting someone wouldn't count as redemption. The stakes felt too high; if anything happened to the person he was meant to protect, he would bear the weight of failure.

"I'm not sure," Stick mumbled.

Divina slapped him so hard that he barely felt it.

"I told you to protect the human. You know the mother," he spat, pressing a finger to his forehead and seeing Scarlett appear in his mind. "Go to town and talk to that girl."

Stick had to guess that Greyson was the father. Even if the girl laughs at his words, she needs to be protected. Scarlett had the confidence that she didn't need protection, but Greyson had been the exception.

Still reeling from Divina's words, he trudged through the dark streets. The cold air bit at his cheeks as he finally reached the town plaza, where a crowd huddled together, seeking warmth or gossip.

The storm had thinned the population as he glanced around for the girl. People were split on two sides as he spotted the girl near the church steps.

He walked over and saw people surrounding Greyson, like the paparazzi. He didn't realize he had come back to town since he heard about him leaving for the island.

When Scarlett saw him, she arched an eyebrow.

"It doesn't look like Eden drugged you," she snickered, her arms crossed.

"I'm pretty sure she did," he sighed.

"What do you want?" Scarlett asked.

"I heard about the..." He let the words hang.

"Yes, it happens," Scarlett said, placing her hands on her hips.

"I'll help protect the baby," Stick said quietly.

Scarlett laughed. "First Cindy, and now you?"

Stick didn't think Cindy would step up after everything that happened. She's changed ever since her sister died, just like he did when he killed Vickie.

"I'm not going with Greyson," Scarlett said, glancing over at the boy.

"I mean for fighting," Stick clarified.

Scarlett just pushed her hair back. "Haven't you been regretting killing some girl you barely knew?"

"Yeah, but I'm trying to change," he mumbled, glancing up through his messy hair. It wasn't gelled or neatly combed like it used to always be.

"To stop mourning for some dead girl who's a follower?" Scarlett spat.

Vickie was a follower, either out of confusion or revenge. Maybe it was all three because he was responsible for her death, and she wanted to see him killed.

"Yes," Stick murmured.

He wasn't no golden boy anymore. The confidence, popularity, and the perfectly styled hair had vanished inside The Bubble. If he still had that title, maybe he could have won over the beautiful girl in front of him.

Actually, that might have been impossible because Scarlett seduces for personal gain.

"You'd have to show what you mean. I'm not just taking your word for it," Scarlett said. "From Ashley or those trying to attack."

"I just want to change somehow," he whispered.

Scarlett's arms crossed. "Everyone wants to protect it," she said. "This hell is adding a life."

"I'll show you."

"Can't do that in a crowd of people. The only way is if I see you do something."

Stick didn't know what he would do. Scarlett walked away from him without looking back at him. Greyson's crowd seemed to be moving away, but Scarlett did not follow.

Protecting someone isn't easy, which means Stick might have to do something shocking. It's not that he will just use his strength from the starvation they all endure. Not even shooting a gun to protect someone from being attacked.

The real danger was Ashley and her followers.

"Which side are you choosing?" Yara asked.

"Jason's," Stick said.

"That's the safer side of things. Greyson's smart, but I wouldn't want to work for him," Yara implied.

Stick had. It earned him punishment after he killed Vickie and failed the mission.

At the time, it was what he deserved.

"Zane will lead us there since Jason isn't feeling well, apparently," Yara said.

Bella wrote him a breakup letter without a true reason, almost like breaking up over text. The worst way someone could break up with someone.

"Maybe he'll come, but people are still deciding which side to take," Yara said, placing a hand on her hip.

"How do you protect someone?" Stick asked.

Yara seemed confused by his question. It didn't surprise him because she was younger than him.

"Don't you just use weapons? That's what Esme said," Yara said.

"Is my strength considered a weapon?" Stick's voice wavered as he lifted a trembling hand.

Yara grinned, punching the air. "It can kill someone! That's weapon enough!"

Are all freaks considered weapons? Due to his unawareness and fear, he never used his power. Henry has always thought the powers were just another thing ranking people in this place.

Power determined status here, just like Scarlett's ranking system. Stick, like James, had strength beyond human limits.

Esme came speeding over, looking oddly confused. "Do you know where Cindy would have taken Jason?" she asked.

Stick shook his head.

She frowned.

"I might as well make sure all of Luke's body isn't walking around like a zombie. If it is, I'll slice him up into pineapple pieces."

Esme held up a long piece of barbed wire with thick gloves on. Stick wasn't exactly sure how that could work when it came to killing followers. No, he didn't want to even think about murder.

"I'll attempt to find Luke's body pieces," Esme rushed, speeding off.

Somehow, he would find a way to get redemption and forgiveness for all the sins he committed. Even if he ends up dying to save someone's life, he'll take it.

Let's hope Stick can start on his road to redemption! But let's hope it doesn't end in death...

Don't forget to vote and comment.
-Lexi