The tension between Kyle and Wes grew thick, like a rope being pulled too tight, fraying under the strain. Jayde stood in the middle of it, feeling as though she were the knot holding everything together—and threatening to snap.

"Kyle, I'm not going anywhere with him!" Jayde protested, her voice shaky as she stepped between them. "You're acting like I'm a hostage or something."

Kyle's eyes flashed, the hurt and frustration evident in his furrowed brow. "I'm acting like your friend, Jayde. This guy—" he jabbed a finger in Wes's direction, "—he's messing with your head. You don't know what's out there. People don't survive when they step out of line."

Wes crossed his arms, his gaze steady and confident, a stark contrast to Kyle's raw emotion. "People don't survive because they don't know what they're capable of. We've been conditioned to believe we're powerless, that the capsules are our only way to stay sane. But that's a lie."

Kyle's fists clenched. "A lie? You're talking about magic like it's some kind of *solution* to everything, but it's not. It's dangerous."

Wes took a step forward, his voice calm but laced with intensity. "What's dangerous is *not* knowing. What's dangerous is living in a world that's suffocating you and pretending it's normal."

Jayde's chest tightened. They were both right, in their own way. But the real danger was the confusion inside her—the pull between two worlds that seemed irreconcilable. Wes's world, with its promises of magic and rebellion, was a stark contrast to the only life she'd ever known. Kyle, on the other hand, represented the safety of routine, of knowing exactly where the line was, even if it felt like a prison.

"I'm not messing with her head," Wes said, locking eyes with Kyle. "But maybe it's time I showed you what the world could be like—what it used to be like."

Before Kyle could respond, Wes lifted his hand. A faint light emanated from his palm, growing brighter with each passing second until the entire library seemed to shimmer, the dullness of the worn shelves and cracked tile floors fading into something ethereal. Colors bled into the air, swirling in hues Jayde had never seen before. The air smelled fresher, richer, like spring after a long winter.

Kyle staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What the—"

Wes's voice was soft but firm. "This is what they've taken from us. A world where magic flows freely, where imagination isn't stamped out, where people can dream without fear of being silenced."

Jayde's breath caught in her throat. She felt the magic too, like a breeze whispering through her mind, opening doors she hadn't realized were closed. Everything felt more alive in that moment, more possible.

Without thinking, she raised her hand, mimicking Wes's gesture. A rush of warmth surged through her, and suddenly, she could feel it—the magic inside her. It was raw and unfamiliar, but it was there, coiling like a serpent just beneath her skin. She willed it forward, not even knowing how or why, but when she opened her eyes, she saw the tendrils of light dance from her fingertips, joining with Wes's.

Kyle was frozen in place, his eyes locked on the display before him. He looked... terrified."Jayde," he whispered, his voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know," she admitted, lowering her hand. The lights faded, leaving the library in darkness once more. But something had shifted—something that couldn't be undone.

Wes turned to Kyle, his expression unreadable. "You don't have to trust me. But you can't ignore what you just saw. This is real."

Kyle swallowed hard, his jaw tense. "I don't like this," he said, glancing between the two of them. "You're both playing with something you don't understand. I get that you want more, Jayde, but this... this is a risk. A huge one."

Jayde opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.

"I'm not saying you're wrong," he said, his voice softening. "But if you want to do this... if you're going to go chasing after some fantasy of magic and rebellion... then I'm coming too. Not because I think it's a good idea, but because I won't let you do it alone."

Her heart twisted at his words. Kyle had always been there for her, steady and unwavering. The thought of dragging him into this mess—the thought of putting him in danger—felt like too much. But the truth was, she didn't want to do it alone either.

Wes raised an eyebrow, clearly not thrilled by the idea. "You really think you can handle this?"Kyle's jaw tightened. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for her."

Jayde looked between them, her chest tightening. There it was—the divide she'd been trying to ignore. Kyle and Wes. Two sides of the same conflict, pulling her in different directions.

Kyle took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "But we can't do anything tonight. It's too risky to be out this late, especially with the patrols."

Wes didn't argue, but Jayde could see the frustration flicker in his eyes. "Fine. But we don't have a lot of time. The resistance is moving, and if we're going to join them, we need to be ready."

Kyle nodded, but his gaze was locked on Jayde. "Let's go home. We'll figure out a plan tomorrow."

Jayde hesitated, glancing at Wes. She didn't want to leave, not yet. But Kyle was right. Rushing into this without a plan would only make things worse.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Tomorrow."

---

The walk home felt heavier than usual, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on her like a storm cloud. Kyle stayed close by her side, his silence saying more than words ever could. She knew he was angry, scared, maybe even a little betrayed. But he hadn't abandoned her. That was something.

When they reached her house, Kyle gave her a long, searching look. "Just... be careful, okay?""I will," she promised, her voice soft. But even as she said it, she wasn't sure how careful she could be anymore.

Kyle lingered for a moment, like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just nodded and walked away.

Jayde slipped inside, the familiar creak of the front door grounding her for a moment. The house was quiet, as it always was this late. Her mother would be asleep, exhausted from another day of routine. Simon, she assumed, would be upstairs, watching the surveillance screens, keeping tabs on everyone else's compliance.

But as she made her way through the dimly lit hallway, she noticed the faint glow coming from the living room.

Simon sat there, hunched over on the couch, his face bathed in the cold light of the screen. But he wasn't watching the monitors. Instead, he was staring at something else—something far more distant, lost in thought in a way she hadn't seen in years.

Her heart skipped a beat. Simon never zoned out. Not since the conditioning had taken hold.She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he was even thinking. The brother she'd grown up with had disappeared years ago, and this empty version of him was all she'd known for so long.

But then he spoke, his voice low and tentative, like he was testing out his words for the first time in ages. "Jayde..."

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. Simon never called her by name anymore. He barely even acknowledged her existence unless it was to remind her to take her Clarity Capsule.He turned to look at her, his eyes shadowed with something she couldn't quite place. Something almost human.

"I... I want to talk."