Ilya wasn't one for gossip, but curiosity pulled her in whenever new news drifted her way.

Nevaeh—infamous for her rumours—had recently shared some fresh tidbits. She loved spilling details about the infirmary's happenings or whispering about people's rumoured to be developing supernatural powers.

Greyson had originally assigned Nevaeh to help with the daycare, but she couldn't stay still—bouncing on her toes, eagerly spilling every scrap of drama she caught wind of.

One of Nevaeh's biggest rumours was that Jason had been brutally beaten, and Bella had been tied up by unknown assailants. On top of that, Jason's stepsister, Ashley, had been acting even more strangely than usual, especially after going missing for over a day.

Ilya leaned against the chipped blue sink, the orange pill bottle in her hand. Eight pills remained.

She counted them twice before shutting the cap shut. Three days missed.

She slipped the bottle into her pocket before anyone could ask. She couldn't afford to think about her medication for now.

Melany and Cindy were on duty, tending to the injured and those caught in recent fights.

Greyson's strict rules had calmed much of the chaos, but anyone caught starting fights or breaking them still faced punishment.

Despite his rules, arguments still broke out at Kid Palace. The toy store had been stripped of anything useful days ago, and most of its remaining supplies had been dragged into the daycare.

A plastic doll lay abandoned beneath one of the tables, missing an arm.

Ilya stepped over it.

Most of the items and toys had been relocated to the daycare from various houses people had collected.

Down the street, Coffee Culture continued serving donuts and drinks, the only slice of normalcy left. Ilya didn't care for sweets, but her friend Selma adored the jelly-filled pastries with rainbow sprinkles.

Selma wasn't assisting with the daycare, but instead searched for children left alone in their homes. She had joined forces with Xander, Mark, and two students from Uden Academy, Kay and Nicole. Selma had told Ilya how emotionally difficult it was to see those children by themselves.

Ilya gently bounced the toddler on her lap. His sticky fingers curled around her sleeve, his tear-streaked cheek pressed against her chest. Her arms ached from hours of carrying him, but every time she slowed, he whimpered.

So she kept bouncing.

Babysitting had never been part of her plan. Neither had been being responsible for keeping someone's child alive.

Psychology had always fascinated her. Why did people hurt others? Why did some people shut down after trauma while others became angry? What made someone feel safe again?

Lately, she'd had more opportunities to study those questions than she'd ever wanted.

The problem was she wasn't studying in a classroom anymore. She was mediating toy disputes or wiping noses in the daycare.

Just as she tried to distract Milo with a toy, the door swung open. She looked up and noticed Greyson and Scarlett entered. While Greyson wore a charming smile, Scarlett looked around with disdain.

A third girl followed them, leaning against the wall. Her maroon hair was pulled into twin pigtails, and she idly fiddled with a golden necklace.

"Bailey's here to help out," Greyson announced.

Ilya rose, gently hoisting Milo from the floor. The weight of him dragged at her arms, muscles aching from hours of holding and soothing, but she didn't let go.

These children needed comfort more than she needed rest, and she could rest later.

"I'll take him," Teagan offered, stepping in to help.

Gratefully, Ilya handed the boy off. Teagan was one of the older girl who helped in the daycare. Most of the helpers were in seventh grade or lower, with the exception of Layla, who was only a year younger than Ilya.

"Some boys will continue to deliver stock if needed," Greyson added.

He had been a huge help with the daycare.

Nevaeh's accusation that he had been responsible for Jason's injuries still found ridiculous to Ilya. Greyson was always there when they needed supplies, always ready with a reassuring smile and another solution.

He didn't seem capable of something like that.

Behind Greyson, the daycare door clicked shut.

"I'm never having kids," Scarlett muttered, grabbing Ilya's wrist lightly.

Ilya gazed at her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. Was this some kind of sacrifice that they performed at Uden?

Scarlett pulled her hand back and shook her head at Greyson.

"By the way, thank you for your assistance," Ilya said.

"We have to make sure the children are safe," Greyson said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We can't let what happened during the fire repeat itself."

His desire to prevent the fire incident from happening again was noble. He seemed genuinely invested in helping the daycare and the community figure out what was going on around here.

"We're planning another meeting in Simcoe. If you can, come," he said.

Ilya watched as Scarlett and Greyson disappeared through the doorway.

Another meeting in Simcoe.

Why?

There already had people assigned to the daycare, supply runs, and searches for lost children. Unless Greyson knew something they didn't, there shouldn't be much left to discuss.

She knew her parents would never just abandon her. They had come to Simcoe to start a new life, and she had enjoyed living with her sister ever since. Despite the cultural differences from Dubai, most of the people she had met in Canada were friendly. However, Uden was a different story, as some of the behaviours there were troublesome.

As she quietly returned, Ilya exhaled and turned toward the kitchen. She needed caffeine more than sleep at this point. She poured herself a mug of black coffee and added a splash of cream, the warmth soothing against her palms.

She might get three hours of sleep before a child woke up crying for food or for their parents that weren't coming back.

Some of the girls in the corner were trying their best, bottle-feeding infants and entertaining toddlers with toys. Despite the chaos outside, they clung to this place of small order.

Ilya took a gulp of bitter coffee, then set the mug down with a clink. She slapped her cheeks lightly, trying to jolt herself awake. Sleep wasn't an option when children's lives were in danger.

Cindy Yung liked helping people. It was one of the few things that still made sense with everything falling apart.

She knelt beside a young boy and pressed a clean bandage over his scraped knee.

"There," she said. "All done."

The boy looked down and sniffled.

"Thanks."

Cuts and bruises were something she could handle. They were simple. Clean the wound, put on a bandage, and try not to panic.

Across the room, her older sister Melany sat cross-legged on a narrow cot, flipping through a thick, battered medical book. Their father had been a doctor before the adults vanished, and  now the responsibility of caring for others landed on their shoulders.

Treating a sprain or recognizing a concussion was far beyond anything Cindy had learned in seventh-grade health class.

Cuts and scrapes were simple. None of that had prepared her for the girl who had been lying on the coat with strange purple contamination spreading through her system.

Cindy was wiping down a metal tray when the church doors creaked open. Greyson entered the infirmary first, wearing his usual calm smile. Scarlett followed, one eyebrow raised as her gaze swept across the rectangular room.

Greyson crossed the room and stopped in front of Melany, extending his hand with easy confidence.

"I'm guessing you two are the ones helping out as Simcoe's nurses?" he asked.

Melany stood up and shook his hand with a firm grip. "I'm Melany, and this is my younger sister, Cindy. We've been doing what we can to help."

Greyson's eyes moved through the infirmary. "Town meeting," he said. "This afternoon. We're deciding what comes next before things fall apart further. Everyone who's been helping out needs to be there."

Scarlett extended her hand to Melany, shaking it slowly and deliberately. Then she turned to Cindy, offering a quick, confident smile before taking her hand and shaking it.

"I'm sure you could use some help here," Greyson added.

Melany exhaled, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders. She dropped the medical book onto the red blanket beside her.

"Medications are the hardest part to handle," she admitted quietly. "We're running low and I don't know what we're supposed to do when they're gone."

Cindy reached over and squeezed her sister's hand.

"We've got this, Mel."

She tried to sound mod confident than she felt.

Melany gave a small, grateful smile, and for a moment the weight of responsibility felt lighter.

Greyson crouched beside her and gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.

"That's why we're holding this meeting," he said softly, pulling back. "Make sure you tell everyone about it, especially Jason."

Cindy felt a flicker of gratitude toward Greyson's reassurance.

Jason had been their leader, but his injury had kept him stuck on the sideline. Without him, everything felt unstable.

And if the rumours about Jason and Bella were true, maybe Jason hadn't been the one making the decisions after all.

Greyson seemed like the kind of person who could keep everyone calm when everything else was falling apart.

She wondered whether he'd ever considered leaving Uden and stepping up to lead himself.

Cindy closed her eyes and let out a slow sigh.

When she opened them again, the infirmary was gone.

Lavender walls surrounded her. Fairy lights glowed softly overheard. A tall mirror stood across the room, reflecting her frightened expression.

Her bedroom.

That was impossible.

None of it made sense.

Closing her eyes, she replayed Greyson's words about the meeting.

When she opened them again, she was sitting on the cold floor.

Melany stared in horror, Scarlett's eyebrow arched with a knowing smirk, and Greyson stood nearby, his smile charming.

"Some of us have abilities," Greyson said slowly.

Cindy stared at him.

Abilities?

Was he joking?

People didn't have abilities. They walked or drove. They went to school, complained about homework, and argued with their siblings. They didn't teleport or control elements.

"Other people have powers?" she whispered.

Greyson nodded. "Scarlett can sense people's abilities," he explained. "She rank them like high, medium, low, and very low. Sometimes, she can even figure out what someone's ability is."

Scarlett leaned back against the wall.

Cindy glanced at her. Her dark hair fell past her shoulder, and her deep blue eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. There was something effortlessly confident about her that Cindy couldn't help but admire.

She looked away quickly.

"Your rank is medium by the way," Scarlett said. "But Greyson's power is different than mine."

"The meeting be will held at the church," Greyson said, leaving out the details Scarlett had mentioned.

Cindy studied Greyson.

If Scarlett could sense abilities, what could he do?

Heal? Fly? Control something?

Her mind raced with possibilities. Someone who could heal injuries would change everything. Especially someone from Uden who might know more about medicine than they do.

But Greyson hadn't said what his ability was.

Why?

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a warm golden glow across the room. Jason didn't want to move. His head throbbed as he tried to roll over on the large bed. He took in the fancy bedroom with mirrored closet doors, and white decor.

Mark walked into the bedroom.

"Yikes, dude, you look rough," he said, moving quickly to help Jason sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palm against his temples. The room tilted sideways, walls wobbling like water. Each heartbeat sent a sharp pulse through his skull, making the sunlight slicing through the blinds feel like needles.

Mark's voice pulled Jason back from the pain. "Bella found some information. And Ashley was kidnapped and still being held hostage?"

Jason opened his eyes and gave a weak nod, as if the motion alone cost him something.

He tried to stand.

The world tilted.

His legs trembled, and then buckled beneath him.

A groan caught in his throat, humiliation burning hotter than pain.

"Easy," Mark said.

Mark caught him before he hit the floor and steadied him as they moved down the hallway.

Jason's mind raced despite the pain. Scarlett had stopped Henry and Stick from killing him—why? He'd assumed Greyson wanted him dead for sure. The question nagged at him, twisting tighter with every breath.

Mark lowered Jason onto the couch. He rolled onto his side, eyes fixed at the black TV screen. The silence pressed harder against the pain.

Bella entered the room quietly, as if she didn't want to startle him.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw him.

She wore a loose t-shirt, sleeves rolled up, and Jason couldn't help but notice the faint marks on her arms again. The cuts from the skipping rope were healed, but raw lines still showed like scars refusing to fade.

His stomach tightened.

The thoughts came in a rush, sharp and cruel.

He hated himself for it. If he'd been faster, he could've stopped Henry and Stick from dragging her into that classroom. But Greyson's power, plus a fourteen-year grudge, had tossed him aside like a rag doll.

Teagan Baker crouched in front of him, holding a plate with a single pancake and a fork. Jason didn't know her well, but he knew Bella—and Teagan didn't seem like the kind of girl who cared about popularity anymore.

The front door slammed opened.

Scarlett leaned casually against the frame, wearing her usual smirk. Jason winced as he turned his head toward her. Without hesitation, she grabbed Teagan's wrist, raised an eyebrow, before letting go.

"Scarlett—" Bella hissed.

"Where's my thank you?" she snickered.

Jason's voice came out raw, barely above a whisper. "For what?"

Scarlett knelt in front of him, brushing a finger lightly across his cheek.

"For letting you go."

Jason stared at her.

"Stick and Henry were actually going to kill you," she continued. "Do you really think Greyson would've wanted that?"

Jason's face drained of colour as he watched her move, settling easily into the grey recliner like she owned the house.

"It still doesn't change the outcome," Bella said sharply.

Scarlett tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. "Greyson wants all of you at the church assembly," she said casually. "We wouldn't want another incident again."

Jason didn't miss the wink she gave before turning on her heel. She was acting on her own—this wasn't an order from Greyson.

"Wow," Teagan whispered, clearly shaken.

Bella returned to helping Jason eat, though his headache had begun roaring back, pulsing behind his eyes.

Scarlett's smirk lingered even as she walked away, and Jason's chest tightened. She'd saved them but not like someone saving a person. More like someone collecting debt.

Mark leaned against the edge chair. "In a way, she did save you," he said.

Bella's frown deepened. She'd never liked Scarlett since day one. Between Scarlett's sharp tongue and Luke cold-blooded threats, their opinions were thinning fast.

A loud thump jolted everyone's attention—Cindy was suddenly sprawled across the floor. They stared in wide-eyed shock as she slowly pushed herself up, breathing hard.

"Greyson wants everyone at the church," she gasped.

"Wait—" Bella cut in.

"You can teleport?" Jason managed.

Cindy nodded, brushing loose strands of dark hair back into her bun as she stepped to Jason's side. Her fingers were cold against his forehead. "He said in an hour, or whenever he could gather the most people."

She pulled out a small tube from her pocket, squeezing out a clear gel. She dabbed it on Jason's skin, and he clenched his jaw as the cream burned cold, flaring his bruises. Without a word, she turned and gently rubbed some across Bella's arms.

"I can get you get to the church, Jason," Cindy said softly.

He was, as some might say, crippled—his body no longer obeyed him. Even standing on his own took everything he had, and speaking for more than a few minutes left him exhausted.

The golf cart nearly ran out of gas, and Uden Academy was on the other side of the highway. Walking wasn't an option for him.

"No backtalk," he said. "I don't want anyone else hurt because of me."

Bella looked torn, her eyes flickering between him and Cindy.

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it again. His throat burned, each word lodged like a stone. His hands curled into fists against Cindy's shoulder, then fell slack. The world felt like it was tipping—Greyson, the fight, Scarlett's smirk, Bella's fear—all spinning together, and he couldn't grab onto any of it.

Stick and Henry had already tried to kill them without an explanation. Scarlett's surprise intervention had bought them time, but it wouldn't last. And Luke was still holding Ashley hostage at Uden.

Once this meeting ended, they'd need a real plan. No mistakes.

"Fine," Bella said at last.

Cindy glanced at Bella, who was still staring at the faint marks on her arms. They didn't compare to Jason's wounds, but they'd left their mark on her skin and her trust.

Gently, Cindy slipped Jason's arm over her shoulder. "All right. Let's go," she said softly.

One moment he was in Bella's house. The next, the world snapped away and he hit the infirmary floor inside the church.

The teleportation left his stomach spinning.

Melany looked up from her cot, a thick medical book open across her lap, diagrams of broken bones and ligaments sketched across the page.

The infirmary looked just as it did last time—cramped, messy, and lit by the sunlight. New supplies lined the shelves: bottles of painkillers, gauze rolls, thermometers, and a few crutches stacked in the corner.

One cabinet was now labeled "Pain Relief & Infections," the handwriting clear and cursive.

"Feeling a bit better?" Melany asked gently as she moved to help him sit up on the edge of the cot.

"I brought him here to get checked," Cindy said.

Footsteps echoed from above—the creak of the old floorboards signalling that Greyson was setting up for his speech. Jason felt a sick twist in his stomach at the thought of Greyson's outburst last night. Whether it came from jealousy or some twisted ambition, he wasn't sure. But it hadn't felt right.

Melany and Cindy each took one of Jason's arms and helped him to his feet. His legs buckled twice before they managed to steady him. Every step felt forced, his body refusing the idea of balancing.

Just outside the door, James stood with his laptop balanced on his arms, eyes locked on the screen like he just discovered something important.

"Hi, James," Jason said, his voice hoarse.

The boy flinched, clearly startled, then turned and gave a small nod before quickly returning his eyes to the screen.

"Be sure to wait out front," James said quickly.

Melany pushed the heavy church door open.

The noise hit Jason like a wave.

Voices washed through the entrance, pressing against his ears. People shifted, stared, and whispered.

Jason felt his heart hammer in his chest.

The crowd had gathered on the front steps, packed close like they were trying to hold each other for balance. Their faces were turned upward, eyes fixed on the balcony above.

They moved him forward, slowly as if he were fragile glass. A hand guided him toward a bench beside a cement planter. Pink camellias petals lay crushed over the rim, darkened by damp.

Jason's gaze drifted up.

Greyson stood on the balcony, centre-stage, flanked by Scarlett and Luke. He smiled pleasant and calm. The kind of smile that looked like it belonged to someone who achieved what they wanted.

"I know many of you are confused by what's been happening," Greyson began, his voice smooth. "The Bubble is what is left."

His gaze swept the crowd.

"Simcoe. Uden Academy. Every kid left behind."

He paused.

"Everyone under fifteen."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"We're not two schools anymore, Greyson continued. "We're one group. One community. And if we're going to survive, we need structure."

"What do you mean, 'The Bubble'?" someone in the crowd called out.

"The Bubble is this—everything left behind. Simcoe, Uden Academy, all of us. It's no longer just your school or mine. It's everyone under fifteen, trying to survive," Greyson replied. "And from what I understand, Jason Harp has been lead you. Is that right?"

Nevaeh Bolton raised her voice from the centre of the crowd. "He's been hurt a lot lately. It's been hard for him to keep running things."

Greyson's smile widened on the balcony, his voice calm and almost sympathetic. "Leadership isn't easy," he said calmly. "And if Jason can't handle it anymore, I can."

Jason's eyes widened in disbelief. He wanted to speak, but his throat was dry, and his body too weak to rise.

Around him, people slowly began nodding.

"I can also help manage the daycare, the infirmary, and security," Greyson continued, his voice steady. "Luke will assess where security is needed most, once we have finalized leadership rolls." He scanned the crowd. "So, who here already considers themselves a leader?"

A few hands went up. Then more followed, hesitant but multiplying.

Jason spotted Ilya, Henry, Nelson, Henry, Stick, and lifting their arms.

"We'll continue inside," Greyson said, motioning calmly toward the church doors. "Only those who raised their hands."

Cindy and Melany exchanged a glance, then quietly moved to Jason's side. They helped him to his feet, his legs trembling with each step as they ascended the chapel's stairs.

Inside, sunlight spilled through the stained-glass windows, painting fractured hues of red and blue across the pews.

The church's interior was wide and solemn, the curved pews forming arcs beneath the vaulted beams. The large crucifix still hung above the altar, but somehow looked heavier now.

Greyson stood at the front, beside the altar, flanked again by Scarlett and Luke. Emma lingered near the side, her arms behind her back.

Sixteen people sat scattered across the pews.

On one side: Jason, Bella, Mark, Zane, Melany, Cindy, Ilya, Nevaeh, and Nelson.

On the other: Greyson, Scarlett, Luke, Henry, Stick, James Pyle, Finn Earl, and Emma.

The room felt split—not just by seating, but loyalty.

Greyson folded his hands in front of him. "Most of you, we've already met. And since the current system clearly isn't working, I've created something a method that will create structure."

Jason glanced sideways. Bella sat stiffly, her eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed tightly. She wasn't looking at him—she was watching Greyson with barely restrained suspicion. Jason didn't blame her.

Greyson gestured toward Emma. "Emma will now be assisting in the infirmary. She Uden's designated healer and capable of repairing broken bones."

Melany rose to her feet so quickly the bench creaked under her. "Thank you," she said with relief. "We've needed the help."

Emma gave a small nod without looking up.

"Luke will take over security," Greyson went on. "He'll evaluate threats and organize patrols throughout the area."

He turned to Ilya, Nelson, and Zane.

"You three will continue with whatever responsibilities you've already taken on. We can't afford to lose the people keeping this place functioning."

His attention shifted to Jason.

"And you..."

Jason looked up.

"You can help at the fire station."

Jason almost laughed because he could barely stand up

"And Nevaeh, from what I've heard, you're our official information hub."

Nevaeh grinned. "From relationship drama to secrets no one wants to spill, I hear it all."

Nevaeh was his Jason's age—he remembered sharing classes with her, though they'd never been close. She had a reputation for drama, and once, a teammate warned him about a rumour she spread involving Bella and Teagan. It wasn't her cruelty, but how fast she could spread the word.

"If you hear anything important, bring it to me directly," Greyson instructed. "Henry, Stick, and Finn, you'll be assisting Luke with security."

Finn shot up from his seat, hands flailing. "I'm not working with that freak!" he shouted, glaring at Luke.

Without a word, three thick Bibles rose slowly from the floor—then snapped forward like hammers, slamming into Henry, Stick, and Finn's heads with a thud.

Finn yelped stumbling forward as tears sprang to his eyes.

Henry cursed under his breath.

No one moved.

Jason's gaze snapped to Greyson. His hands were still clasped neatly in front of him—just like the other day, when he'd sent Jason flying without lifting a finger. No movement. No warning. Just an invisible force.

"Having your group on board strengthens our numbers," Greyson said smoothly. "We need every hand we can get to keep this place running."

Henry scowled, running the back of his head. "Fine," he muttered.

"There's one last thing I should clarify," Greyson added, his eyes locking with Jason's. "Jason and I are twins."

Mark stared at Jason with wide eyes, just like half the room. The silence stretched thin, stunned by the revelation.

In a place held together by fragile trust and shaky leadership, the truth wasn't just personal—it could tear The Bubble apart.

Who is your favourite character so far?
Don't forget to comment and vote!
-Lexi